


The Big Reveal

by Anonymous



Category: Mage: The Ascension, Merlin (TV), Merlin (TV) RPF
Genre: Action/Adventure, Arthur Finds Out, Community: kinkme_merlin, Crossover, Gen, Magic Realism, Magic Revealed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-09
Updated: 2011-08-09
Packaged: 2017-10-22 10:53:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 89,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/237304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bradley and Colin swap places with Merlin and Arthur. Fill of this kinkme_merlin prompt: "Arthur/Merlin,Bradley/Colin. Friendship stuff only, no slash if possible. Something magical happens, and the two pairs of boys get dimension-swapped. IE, Merlin and Arthur are here, trying to act in the series, and Bradley and Colin are stuck in Camelot. Others can be involved too...would love to see an Anthony and Uther reality-swap."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Gen, violence, some references to White Wolf's Mage: the Ascension, season 3 spoilers. Special thanks to [rebeccaann08](http://rebeccaann08.livejournal.com/) for being a most wise and excellent beta, without whom this story would not have survived after the thread, and special thanks to everyone who read along originally.

In all the books Bradley had ever read and in all the films he'd ever seen, big reality-swapping adventures usually came as a result of a head injury so that the protagonist was conveniently unconscious while the magic happened. After playing Arthur Pendragon for three years, he was fairly well-versed in the art of convenient unconsciousness, so he fully expected that if any world-altering shenanigans were going to involve him, they would happen when he was knocked out during a stunt gone wrong or something equally plausible and painful.

Something mundane on the other hand, like a power outage while filming down the caves at Chester, seemed like less of a chance for magical shenanigans to ensnare him. At least, that's what popular film and literature would suggest. Bradley knew, from personal experience, that mundane things could trigger magic, like a heartfelt wish or an explosion of emotion or just the wrong conversion of energies.

Bradley knew from personal experience because, irony of all ironies, he had magic.

Like Merlin, Bradley was born with his magic. Unlike Merlin, his mother wasn't concerned with keeping her son's talents a deep, dark secret. She was concerned when he didn't Awaken to his magic at the precocious age of twelve like she had. (Bradley's first act of magic actually occurred when he was fifteen and fully resolved to play for Arsenal, seeing how he wouldn't be following in his mother's footsteps. He'd inadvertently made his teaspoon keep stirring his tea after he let it go. Then he'd been dazzled by seeing the Tapestry for the first time and promptly passed out. When he'd awakened six hours later, his mum told him she was very proud of him and that self-stirring tea was a very English magic skill. Bradley's second act of magic was Aunt Sarah's fault. She'd made him watch the film Practical Magic too many times, which prompted him to learn how to light candles by blowing them out, and he almost set his own birthday cake on fire.)

Like Merlin, Bradley could move things and set things on fire and sometimes waffle with time, but unlike Merlin his magic was not elemental and instinctual. It was good on the small-scale, for things like birthday candles, stirring tea, and saving Aunt Sarah from spilling a glass of wine on herself, but it required years of study (sweating and swearing and effort while his cabal siblings laughed) and an external focus (his ubiquitous ring).

So when the lights in the caves exploded in a shower of glass, Bradley didn't think it was the start of world-altering shenanigans, but in retrospect it was a perfectly logical starting point for said shenanigans. Bradley leapt to cover Colin, because he was wearing armor, and even though it was plastic costume armor, it offered more protection than what Colin had on. He ended up with Colin's nose jammed up into his collarbone, and Colin swore, and then his lanky legs got tangled up with Bradley's, and they ended up on the ground in a heap.

"Thanks. I think," Colin said.

Bradley heaved himself up onto his knees. "You're welcome. Are you hurt? Bleeding at all?" He could feel Colin's breath puffing somewhere near his temple, and the ground was uneven beneath him.

"I'm fine. Just a bit – squashed. Make-up and costume are going to have a fit," Colin said.

"Yes, well, that won't matter until we get the lights on." Bradley tried to peer, but it was useless. They were in total darkness, the blackness around them opaque, darker even than when he closed his eyes. When he closed his eyes, he could see multicolored sparkles against his eyelids, but when he opened his eyes...nothing.

"Jeremy?" Colin called out. "Andreas? What happened?"

There was no answer.

Bradley was immediately worried, because half of the crew swore like sailors, and whenever something went wrong – and they weren't filming somewhere children might be watching – they turned the air blue with their curses. This time there was nothing, not even a "flippin' 'eck" from Charlotte, who was too polite to swear.

"Hello?" Colin called.

His voice echoed back at him.

He said, "This is...bad."

"Yeah." Bradley took a deep breath and wished he'd followed his mother's footsteps more closely and learnt some Correspondence magic. At least then he'd have a chance to figure out where they were, and possibly open a portal to safety, only he really wasn't that strong, and Colin's mundane presence would make working magic that much harder.

"Where is everyone?" Colin asked.

Bradley held his breath and listened. He didn't hear a sound besides Colin's breathing – no moans of pain or unconscious snores. "I don't know."

"Can you stand?" Colin asked.

"I think so," Bradley said. He heard Colin shift in the darkness somewhere to his left.

"Wait," Bradley said. "Don't move yet. You had a candle."

"What?"

"Merlin had a little candle for this scene. Where is it?"

"I don't know," Colin said. "I dropped it."

"See if you can find it," Bradley said, thinking quickly. He stripped off Arthur's leather gloves and – yes. Success. He was wearing Arthur's silver ring. It wasn't on his thumb, and it wasn't his ring, but it was a ring and it would do in a pinch. Only they were in much more than a pinch.

"Do you have matches or a lighter or something?" Colin asked, and he was still talking like Merlin, had worked himself into Merlin's accent and hadn't been jolted out of it.

"Or something," Bradley said in a low voice. Like Merlin, he had kept his magic hidden for most of his life. Unlike Merlin, it wasn't due to fear of death, because the magical community was a thriving underground, and Bradley's mother had arranged for him to be tutored with other boys and girls his age who had magic. Mages didn't tell people they had magic because people disbelieved, and their disbelief made magic...harder. Like Merlin, however, Bradley was terrified of rejection, of what his mundane friends would say if he told them he could, in emergency situations, dilate time to give someone extra moments to think and react. People had been institutionalized for claiming less.

Somewhere off to Bradley's right, he could hear Colin scrabbling around on the ground. Then he heard a soft hiss of victory, and then Colin said,

"Where are you? I found it. It's not broken, and the wick is intact."

"I'm here," Bradley said and reached out. They fumbled in the darkness until their knuckles collided, and then Colin pressed the candle into his hand.

"No one else is here," Colin said. "At least – I don't think they are. I can't hear them. Do you hear them?"

"No," Bradley said. "I don't hear them." He slipped one of his gloves back on and grasped the candle carefully, and then he turned Arthur's ring round his index finger three times, focused. He lifted the candle and blew softly on the wick, and then – there. A single, small golden point of light blossomed against the darkness and illuminated Colin's face.

"How long do you think the candle will last?" Colin asked. He looked both scared and relieved in the way that only he could, and Bradley was relieved that he wasn't asking questions about how Bradley lit the candle.

"I don't know," Bradley said. "A couple of hours, maybe, but we weren't that far from the entrance. Maybe a fifteen minute walk."

"Assuming we can even get out," Colin said. "Maybe we should put the candle out to save oxygen?"

"I didn't hear a cave-in, just the lights blowing out, so I don’t think we risk running out of oxygen," Bradley said. "Hang onto my belt, and we'll go together. See if we can find anyone."

He took a deep breath and stretched the candle out in front of them, and its little sphere of illumination wasn't very big, but it was big enough to guide them to the wall so they could feel their way along. A few meters down from where they started, Bradley turned, brandished the candle against the middle of the cave – and stared.

It was empty. There was no equipment, no wires, and no other human beings. In fact, the wires that had been running along the walls were gone, as were the railings.

"Colin," Bradley said quietly, "I think something very terrible has happened."

"Where is everyone?" Colin asked. "They can't have just vanished. And they wouldn't have left us."

"This is the cave we started the day in, isn't it?" Bradley waved the candle around, searching for some sign that they were in the Cheddar cave or some other cave instead, but he'd been to the Chester cave before and knew them well, and they were in the proper cave.

With the exception of the sudden absence of the entire crew and extras.

"It is," Colin said, and his voice was high, tight. "We should get out of here and get help."

"Maybe it's a prank," Bradley said faintly. "The lights went out, we fell unconscious, and it's some very ill-thought-out prank."

"Maybe," Colin agreed, but both of them knew the crew would never go to this extent, not with Colin. With Bradley alone, maybe, but Colin was so accident-prone that the producers and directors never wanted to tempt fate. Maybe the rest of the crew was waiting outside for the pay-off, some party poppers and “Gotcha!” or whatever they’d concocted.

"Let's keep walking," Bradley said. And so they did. His internal clock was actually startlingly accurate, a side-effect of his Time magic, and he'd had to learn over the years to say 'about fifteen minutes' when someone asked how much time elapsed and he knew thirteen minutes and forty-five seconds had passed. As he'd predicted, fourteen minutes and seventeen seconds after they'd begun walking in earnest, light began to creep into the tunnel, so Bradley blew out the candle – actually blew it out – and Colin let go of his belt, and they both picked up the pace.

Bradley was practically running when he reached the mouth of the tunnel, and he burst into the afternoon sunlight, sucked in great gulps of fresh air. The clearing around the entrance to the tunnel was also barren of people and equipment, and Bradley felt unease trickle down his spine. Something was wrong with this place – with the time here. Only it was something he'd never felt before.

"Did you find it?" Eoin asked.

Bradley spun and saw Eoin come ducking out of the trees. He was dressed in full costume and carrying a sword. A moment later, Santiago, Rupert, and Tomi followed. They all wore full costume – in fact, the costumes they'd been wearing for the scenes they were shooting last week in the Forest of Dean. Bradley was utterly confused, because their scenes were done yesterday and they'd all dispersed until the next block of episodes where they'd be needed.

"Find what?" Bradley asked.

"Where is everyone?" Colin asked again.

Santiago's brow furrowed. "It's just us. His Majesty charged us with seeking the Lady Morgana in secret, and he trusts no others –"

"His Majesty?" Bradley echoed.

Santiago shot Colin a look, as if to say, _Again?_

Eoin stepped forward, and he wore Gwaine's easy grin. "Did you hit your head again, Arthur?"

Santiago nodded and stepped forward as well, put a hand on Bradley's shoulder. "Did you encounter magic in the cave? Is that why you didn't find it?"

"Are we still in the middle of a scene? Why aren’t you calling me by my real name?" Bradley asked. He cast Colin an expression of alarm.

"Because we can't get away with calling you 'clotpole' to your face," Eoin said with Gwaine's easy grin, and he was using Gwaine's accent. Okay. So they were in costume and in character. This was part of the prank. Bradley could deal with that sort of prank dedication.

But then Rupert shot Eoin a look and muttered, "Respect!"

"Oh please," Eoin said, "I've punched him in the face. We respect each other just fine."

Santiago craned his neck to peer at Colin and said, "Come tell me what happened. Elyan, Gwaine, and Leon can help His Highness have a drink."

Bradley frowned. "It doesn't take three people to help me have a drink. And don't call me that. Just tell me what's going on."

Tomi took Santiago's place at Bradley's side and started guiding him toward the trees. "We're looking for the shield of the Blood Guard. Morgana and Morgause need it to raise more troops to their cause."

Okay – they were in the plot of the season premiere, but these weren't their scripted lines, so this was some sort of long-form improv game. Bradley had never been great at improv, but he'd been playing Arthur for three years, and he could fake it with the best of them. He'd gone to school for it, after all.

"Of course," he said. "I'm sure if we find it we will find them. Have we tried looking at the Isle of the Blessed?"

"Where?" Rupert asked. "I've never heard of such a place."

Eoin blanched slightly at that, but Tomi spoke up. "I've heard of it before, during my wanderings. It's the home of the Old Religion."

"Well," Bradley said, attempting to sound as authoritative and Arthur-like as possible given that he had no lines memorized, "Morgause is a priestess of the Old Religion, so it stands to reason that the shield might be there."

"Where is the Isle located?" Rupert asked, and he looked utterly Leon-earnest.

"Somewhere over the White Mountains and..." Bradley scrunched up his face, puzzled, and then belatedly remembered Arthur never looked that puzzled. "Merlin would know. He's been there before."

Eoin turned even paler. "He has?"

"Yes, back when he saved me from –" Bradley cut himself off. This was the problem with filming three episodes all at once – he never had all the scenes in the right order in his head, and he and Colin had spent their spare time yesterday puzzling out the nuances of Merlin's confession scene, so he was using knowledge Arthur didn't have yet.

"Saved you from what?" Tomi asked.

Bradley sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. "Okay, look, this ridiculousness has gone on long enough. First you put out the lights and left us alone in the cave, and now you're attempting some long-form improv, and I'm sorry, but it's been a very trying day, and I'd like to just go back to the hotel and watch some Buffy."

"Buffy, Sire?" Rupert sounded politely puzzled.

Bradley threw his hands up. "Stop calling me that! And yes, Buffy."

Tomi looked puzzled. Eoin looked puzzled and also highly amused.

"Drop the act already, okay? Please? This stopped being funny a good nine minutes ago." Bradley winced at the slip of the tongue, at telling Time like a Mage, but it was too late to fix it, and he didn’t have the energy to try.

"What act, Sire?" Rupert asked. He stepped closer to Bradley, held up a leather wineskin. "Do you need a drink? What happened in the cave? Did you hit your head?"

"Again?" Eoin piped up.

"I didn't hit my head," Bradley said, "and I've reached the end of my rope. Yes, generally, I do try to have a sense of humor, but this has gone on long enough, and can we just call it a day, please? Where are Jeremy and Andreas?"

"I don't know who those people are," Tomi said, and he was looking at Bradley very strangely.

Eoin rested his hand on the pommel of his sword, the gesture easy and subconscious, as if he did it all the time, which was absurd, because he tended to giggle like a schoolboy whenever he had a chance to play with a sword. "I think all those times he's hit his head have finally caught up to him."

Bradley curled his hands into fists. "Stop. Stop now."

"Stop what, Sire?" Rupert asked.

Bradley growled. "Calling me that!"

"I'm sorry, Sire – Arthur. It's just, most of my life I've not called you by your name," Rupert said, and he sounded both apologetic and faintly alarmed.

Bradley took a deep breath. "My name is _not_ –"

"Arthur," Colin called, sharply, and he was still using Merlin's accent.

Bradley spun around. "Not you, too. What did Santiago say to you?"

Colin hurried across the clearing and caught Bradley by the shoulder, tugged him aside. "I need to talk to you. Alone."

Santiago went to stand with the other three; he was watching Colin with worried eyes.

"What the hell is going on?" Bradley demanded.

Colin's face was pale and his eyes were wide. If the camera crews had been present, the picture Colin presented would have sent fangirls the world over cooing in sympathy. "They're not pretending."

"They're actors. They're paid to pretend, and frankly, I'm sick of it," Bradley said. "Where's the crew?"

Colin shook his head. "You don't understand. They're not actors."

"What do you mean?" Bradley glanced over his shoulder at the four men dressed as knights; he had it on good authority that all of them were actors, and apparently good ones too.

"That man who took me aside just now – the one who one looks like Santiago – he's actually Lancelot," Colin said.

"How do you know he's not just having you on?" Bradley asked.

"Because he called me Merlin and asked if I'd had to use any magic and were you all right and he didn't drop character, not once, and Bradley – he was genuinely afraid for me. For Merlin. In case Arthur finds out about his magic," Colin said.

"It's part of the stupid game," Bradley said. "They're having both of us on. We should tell them to snap out of it and –"

"It's not a game," Colin said, voice low and frustrated. He darted a wary glance toward the others. "I'm serious. Something happened back in that cave and we're not – we're not in England anymore. Or at least, not any England we've ever known."

Bradley closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Please, please tell me you're not in on the prank too, that this isn't revenge for the time I helped Katie change your toothpaste for hair gel."

"That was _you_?" Colin hissed.

Bradley opened his eyes, swallowed hard. "Oh. So you hadn't figured that bit out. Katie was sure –"

"Look, this isn't a prank," Colin said firmly. "I'll prove it to you."

"How?" Bradley asked.

Colin turned and marched toward the others. He held out a hand. "Sword, please."

Eoin reached for his first. "What for? You can't go killing Arthur. They have laws against that sort of thing." But he unsheathed it and handed it over, pommel first.

Colin winced at the weight of it, and Bradley felt his chest tighten. Colin was having him on too. He'd figured out the toothpaste-hair gel thing ages ago and now he was part of this madness – and then Colin reached out and ran his palm down one edge of the sword.

Eoin and Tomi swore and lunged at him with a cry of, "Merlin!"

And then Colin drew his hand away from the sword. It was bleeding.

Bradley's heart crawled into his throat. The sword was real. He'd seen all the stunt swords before, knew the weight and shape of them, knew the details in the guards and pommels because, despite being a nancy boy actor, he liked weapons, and he'd appreciated the chance to use them, and he knew that none of them – not one of them – was real. Andreas would never risk his men like that.

"See?" Colin said.

"Are you mad?" Rupert demanded – and oh. No. He was Sir Leon.

The one who looked exactly like Santiago, he was Lancelot. He turned and headed further into the trees while the other two – Gwaine and Elyan – fussed over Colin. Lancelot reappeared with a wineskin and bandages and proceeded to dress the wound on Colin's hand.

"It's shallow, and it should heal soon," Lancelot said, and he cast Bradley a dark look, as if all this were Bradley's fault, as if Bradley had goaded Colin to hurting himself –

No.

As if Arthur had goaded Merlin into hurting himself.

Bradley pushed past the other knights – they were actual knights with sharp swords and they killed people – and pulled Colin around to face him.

"I believe you," he said, very quietly. He elbowed Lancelot aside and finished bandaging Colin's hand himself.

"I'm fine," Colin said to the others, and they took a step back. Bradley knew he'd been rude, but he didn't care, because the odd tingle down his spine was suddenly making much, much more sense – scary sense – and they had to figure out what the hell happened.

"What do we do now?" Bradley asked softly.

"Play along," Colin said. "Until we can figure out how to get home."

"Gaius or the Dragon could help us, right?" Bradley could feel the others watching him, could feel panic prowling the edges of his consciousness, waiting for him to give him.

"Maybe," Colin said, "but I don't have a Dragonlord's powers, and how will we get Gaius to believe us?"

Bradley took a deep breath, tried to settle his nerves, but he could feel his pulse picking up speed. "I don't know. Colin – how am I supposed to lead them? I can't really fight with a sword and if you don't have magic....how are we going to stay alive? Everyone knows Arthur is alive because of Merlin."

Colin's face was pale, his eyes wide and solemn. "I don't know what we're going to do."

Bradley finished bandaging Colin's hand. "I'll think of something." He was the one with magic, after all. "Until then, just...play along. You're Merlin, and I'm Arthur."

"All right," Colin said.

Bradley wished he didn't look so trusting.

* * *

Merlin had been resolved to do this for hours. Half a day, even. To tell Arthur about his magic. His resolve might have had something to do with Gaius pushing him firmly out the infirmary door and telling Merlin he couldn't come back in until he had confessed. Arthur had been the acting regent for months now, knighting worthy peasants and kissing Gwen out in the open and everything; it was high time Merlin start making advancements for sorcerers. As the legendary Emrys he really needed to get a move-on with it all. And Merlin had been going to confess, he'd just been about to, as soon as he was done mucking out the stables and doing Arthur's laundry, but then Gwaine came by and distracted him, and then Lancelot joined them and distracted them both by moping about Gwen, and then Leon arrived and informed them that Arthur needed them immediately, and, well, Merlin couldn't very well tell Arthur in front of all the others.

So he resolved to tell Arthur as soon as they were alone. He'd been suspecting that it wouldn't be until the middle of the night, and then he'd have to wake Arthur up and face him while he was sleepy and grumpy. Finding time alone on a quest was a complicated task, and anything to do with Morgana made Arthur grumpy, so when Arthur informed Merlin that they were supposed to capture a shield to lure Morgana and Morgause to Camelot, Merlin knew it was going to be a long, grumpy quest. Then they ran into Grettir, who informed them that the shield they were seeking was deep in a vessel of the earth, so they'd headed for a grotty cave, and of course Merlin was the one to follow Arthur down into the darkness instead of one of the fully-armored, armed, trained knights.

As they wended their way through the dark and damp, Gaius's voice – complete with an image of his arched eyebrow – came back to haunt Merlin, and he knew that this was possibly his only chance to confess.

And so he tried.

"Listen, Arthur –"

"Did you hear something?" Arthur swung around, torch held high. His face was still, solemn, the line of his shoulders tense. He drew his sword.

Merlin listened obediently, but all he heard was the distant drip of water, which wasn't uncommon in a cave, and Arthur's breathing. "No, I don't hear anything."

"Sh!" Arthur said. He gestured sharply, and even though Merlin wasn't much with knightly sign language, he knew _get behind me_ well enough, so he scrambled to obey. He curled one hand in front of him, ready to cast a spell at whatever ugly thing was about to lunge out of the darkness, but nothing came.

After a few moments, Arthur relaxed, if fractionally, and proceeded deeper into the cave.

 _I have to tell him_ , Merlin thought. He doubted the shield would be at all well-guarded since non-magic users had no purpose in obtaining it. If they kidnapped it before Morgana and Morgause could get it, they could lure the sisters out into the open, but it wasn't as if the shield was anything like the Cup. Getting the shield would be an easy matter, so it wasn't as if Merlin would be putting their lives in danger by striking up some easy conversation. So how, precisely, did a man tell his best friend he'd been lying for the entirety of their friendship?

 _If only I could be sure we were somewhere safe, where he couldn't turn me over to the king, couldn't kill me. Where it was us and nobody but us_ , Merlin thought. _I wish –_

And then light exploded overhead.

"Merlin!" Arthur dove, tackled Merlin to the ground, shielded Merlin's body with his. Merlin's pitiful candle went flying. Somewhere behind him, Arthur's dropped torch sputtered out, and they were trapped in total darkness.

Merlin lay trapped beneath Arthur, his heart hammering against his ribs; he could feel Arthur breathing heavily above him, knew the sound of Arthur's panic.

And then a woman said, "Flippin' 'eck, the wiring's just gone and shorted itself out. Nobody move – radio aboveground and have someone bring in some torches, will you?"

Panic sent Merlin's heart leaping up into his throat.

Arthur said, "Who goes there?" He sounded brave and authoritative, but Merlin knew he was afraid, because they'd been alone in the cave, he was sure of it, and that woman must have appeared by magic.

"Don't worry, duck," the woman said. "If we all keep our positions we won't bump into anyone or anything, and someone will be along with lights soon enough."

Several other men – _other men? Where had they come from? Were they sorcerers too?_ – began cursing the air blue, complaining about delays and money and possible injuries and almost getting burnt to death or cut to ribbons by falling glass.

Arthur levered himself off of Merlin carefully, then tugged Merlin up onto his knees and shifted in front of him.

Arthur said, "Should you really be speaking like that in the presence of a lady?"

"Oh, come off it," one of the men said, and the woman said, somewhere off to Merlin's left,

"That's really sweet of you to care, duck, but I've been around these foul-mouthed louts for years, and nothing will make them behave."

"Arthur," Merlin whispered in the general direction of Arthur's ear, "where did these people come from?"

"I don't know," Arthur whispered back, and he sounded angry, tense and afraid. "That flash of light must have been magic – that's how they got here. I can hear lots of people, more than we've heard talking. We're surrounded."

"Maybe they're Druids guarding the shield, like they guarded the Cup?" Merlin suggested. If so, maybe he could use his influence as Emrys to secure his and Arthur's safe escape.

"I don't know," Arthur said. "They seem friendly enough, for now, since they don't know who we are, so we should play along until we can make a run for it. Then – then we can rally the others and make an attempt to get the shield." Merlin could hear him shifting his grip on his sword.

Both of them jumped when they heard a strange crackling noise, almost like sheets of crumpled parchment whispering against each other in a breeze, and amidst the crackling there were voices. It had to have been some sort of communication spell, because the woman who'd addressed them began speaking in some strange, abbreviated fashion that involved a lot of "Roger" and "over".

"Is Colin all right?" one man called out.

"Yeah, he's a delicate little lamb," another man said, and laughter rang through the darkness.

Merlin's heart climbed into his throat. Were there druid children present? He remembered how Arthur had been threatened to kill a druid child the last time they'd encountered one. Even though Arthur had saved Mordred – who really, really shouldn't have been saved, Merlin would admit it now – he had been fully prepared to end a druid child's life to obtain the Cup. Granted, the shield wasn't nearly as important or as powerful as the Cup, it was just a ploy for a plan to capture the sisters, but Arthur could be reckless when it came to earning his father's approval.

"You didn't squash him did you, Bradley?" another man asked.

Neither Colin nor Bradley answered.

The second man snickered and said, "His highness isn't answering us because he's all offended we swore in front of Charlotte."

Merlin frowned, confused. Only Arthur had spoken up in defense of the woman's honor. Did they think he was someone named Bradley? Perhaps he sounded like a friend of theirs, one named Bradley. In the dark, they didn't know who was who, after all, and none of them had been surprised at hearing Arthur's voice.

"Bradley, really," the woman said, "don't be offended on my account. It's fine. All riggers talk like sailors."

Perhaps Arthur had come to the same conclusion, because he said, "I didn't squash Colin."

"I think I saw you tackle him when that light blew," another man said, and how many of them were there? "Got Prince Arthur's protective streak going, have you?"

Beside Merlin, Arthur tensed. How did they know who he was?

"Prince Arthur always protects his subjects," he said cautiously, and the man laughed.

"This is quite true, but technically Merlin isn't Arthur's subject, is he? After all, he comes from Cenred's kingdom," the man said.

Merlin curled his hand into a fist again, ready to cast a fireball, because these people knew he and Arthur were there, knew who they were. They must have been magic users, or maybe spies, and that meant Arthur was in danger.

Arthur said, "Why are you talking about someone named Merlin? You asked if I'd squashed Colin, and I said I hadn't."

There was more rumbling laughter around them, and Merlin really, really wanted to use his magic, because they were surrounded and had no other choice. Maybe this was how his confession would come about, he'd use brilliant magic to rescue them and maybe Arthur wouldn't be so angry about him having it.

Then the woman said, "Yes, well, Colin plays Merlin, doesn't he?"

A random man said, "Oh dear. Bradley might have hit his head when he went down. Johnny's going to have a fit if he's injured. Does your head hurt, Bradley?"

Merlin was confused now. They thought someone named Colin was pretending to be him? How did that work? He leaned closer to Arthur and whispered as softly as he could,

"What's going on?"

"I don't know," Arthur said, just as softly.

Light cut through the darkness in front of them. It was clear and bluish-pale, not like any light Merlin had never seen before, a swathe of light that was straight and radiated from a perfectly circular slice of glass. Several more lights bobbed behind it, and Merlin realized they were carried by people. Once his eyes adjusted to the illumination, he saw that there were people everywhere, people and massive metal contraptions whose functions he could only imagine, all of which were connected by slick black cords made of some foreign substance. All of the people were wearing trousers and thick coats, including one woman hovering near a couple of chairs.

"We've brought light," a man said. "We'll move in groups of five, go topside and get warm, make sure everyone's accounted for. I think Johnny called for craft services so we can have an early supper while the electricians sort things out. I think also Jeremy might want Colin and Bradley to go over some scenes while they're waiting."

Merlin had no clue what electricians were, or craft services, but he was quite sure that whatever was going on, magic was involved.

It seemed Arthur had come to the same conclusion, because he rose up slowly, sword gripped tightly, and tugged Merlin up and behind him.

"Get ready to run," he said, and then one of the magical lights swung toward them.

"Colin, Bradley, you're in one piece," a woman said, and she sounded relieved.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," a man said from somewhere in the shadows. "Bradley might have taken a knock to the head – he tackled Colin down when the bulbs blew, and he sounded a bit confused there in the dark."

Arthur and Merlin exchanged looks. They were surrounded by magic users who thought they were people other than who they were. Apparently they thought Merlin was someone named Colin and Arthur was someone named Bradley, and while they knew who Merlin was and who Arthur was, they didn't think that the two people with them were Merlin and Arthur; they were Colin and Bradley.

Merlin closed his eyes and sighed. This business was giving him a headache. Then he remembered that whoever this Colin was, they thought he was pretending to be Merlin, so perhaps it stood to reason that they thought this Bradley character was pretending to be Arthur. Maybe if Arthur and Merlin pretended to be Bradley and Colin, no one would be suspicious, and when they got the chance they could run. Hopefully Gwaine, Percival, and the others had managed to make themselves scarce before these people showed up.

A woman with a magical light came closer, and she peered at Arthur.

"Did you hit your head, luv? Come along into the daylight and we'll have a medic check you over."

Arthur straightened up and said with all the princely hauteur he possessed, "I am completely sound of mind and body, my lady. If you would be so kind as to direct us away from this...confusion, my servant and I can fend for ourselves."

The woman laughed. "In good humor, I see. I suppose you might as well stay in character so Jeremy can have a word with you about your big scene coming up." The woman herded them toward three other people, one of whom was Charlotte, the woman whose honor Arthur had defended, and together the five of them followed the woman with the magic light to the mouth of the cave.

It was the same cave they'd gone into looking for the shield, only outside the cave the clearing was just as cluttered with people in that same strange clothing and with those shiny metallic contraptions. Merlin stayed close to Arthur, ready with a subtle spell – he could use the cords everywhere to make someone stumble and fall, give them time to escape – but then one of the men in the strange clothing came toward them. He wore spectacles and was carrying a sheaf of parchment that was bleached bone-white.

"Bradley, Colin," he said, "I'm so sorry about this delay. The electricians think tapping into the overhead lighting grid blew a fuse, and it's going to take hours to get everything back online. In the meantime, I thought we could run lines for some of tomorrow's scenes."

Merlin glanced up at Arthur, who nodded stiffly at him.

"All right," Arthur said. "We can run some lines. From where to where?" He scanned the clearing around them, his soldier's mind likely calculating distance and terrain. Merlin sighed and told himself to buck up. He hated running drills like the knights did, but if a bit of discomfort meant they could escape and continue with their quest, he would do it.

The man flipped through the sheaf of bleached parchment. "I was thinking of starting right after you find the shield and working through the conversation with the knights, and then going on to the confession scene."

Arthur blinked slowly, processing, and Merlin realized that this man didn't mean physically running a given distance, he meant reviewing a certain timeline. Then Merlin realized that the man had also referenced the shield they were looking for.

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "Where is the shield?" he asked, tone carefully casual.

"Down there in the dark. We won't be able to film with it today, not until everything is repaired. We have to get all the crew and equipment out and then the electricians have to get their equipment in, and..." The man sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "It's going to be a long day. You might as well change out of your costumes for now."

Merlin looked down at his clothes. They thought he was wearing some sort of costume? He wanted to ask the man a question, something that wouldn't give the game away, but then a woman shouted, "Jeremy!" and the man excused himself and turned away.

"What do we do now?" Merlin asked.

"Play along," Arthur said. "He wants us to change out of our clothes. I assume we're to wear something like what they're wearing. Do you recognize any of these contraptions or these clothes? Have you seen anything like it in Gaius's books?"

Merlin shook his head. "It must be some kind of magic, but...what if it's not? No one seems afraid of it, and I've not heard anyone incant any spells." He didn't always have to incant to cast spells, but he knew that was an unusual feat. "Maybe it's a type of science? Just different from what we have?"

"How can it be different from what we have when we're just over the border in Odin's territory? Father would know if Odin had such new science," Arthur said. He stepped closer to Merlin and lowered his voice. "Find us some of their clothes to change into and then help me off with my armor."

Merlin cast a glance around, searching for signs of a camp or tents he could raid for spare clothing, but then the woman Charlotte appeared, and she was carrying two bags of sleek black material.

"Here, lads, go off into the trees for some privacy if you need it. Just leave the armor here first, all right?"

"Thank you, my lady," Arthur said.

Charlotte laughed. "So formal today, Your Highness. Go on, take a load off – no need to wear uncomfortable clothing all day." Then someone called her name, and she turned away as well.

Merlin wondered how anyone here got anything useful done with the way they were constantly running around shouting each other's names. He reached up and began unbuckling Arthur's armor. Ordinarily the chore would have annoyed him, but the familiarity was comforting this time. Merlin put the maille, pauldron, and gorget in a neat pile with the two black bags and followed Arthur toward the trees.

Inside the bags, Merlin found trousers made of the thick, sturdy blue material that so many of the others were wearing, as well as tunics made of a soft, cottony material, only they had no laces. One tunic was black and emblazoned with the phrase 'Death Cab For Cutie'; the other was green and marked 'Abercrombie & Fitch'. The bags also contained socks and the strangest shoes Merlin had ever seen.

"Do you think it matters who wears what?" Arthur asked.

"I'm guessing one bag is Colin's and the other is Bradley's," Merlin said. He held up one of the tunics, eyed it, then eyed Arthur. He handed the green tunic to Arthur. "I think this one is yours."

Arthur nodded and shucked his tunic himself, squirmed into the new one. It was much more fitted than the ones he usually wore, but it fit him across the shoulders properly. While Arthur was used to strutting around half-dressed, Merlin had always dressed in private, so he turned away and told himself Arthur wasn't looking while he squirmed into the new tunic and trousers.

"Hurry it up, Merlin. I need help off with these boots," Arthur said.

Merlin knelt at Arthur's feet and began tugging obediently on one of the boots. "Sire, what are we going to do? Do we even know where we are?"

"These are the woods we came through earlier today," Arthur said. "I know them. I can only assume Leon led the others into hiding as soon as these sorcerers appeared."

Merlin paused in divesting Arthur of his boots. "We're alone. In the forest. Why don't we just run?"

Arthur arched an eyebrow. "Are you deaf, Merlin? Can't you hear the people all around us? We'd never get far. And it sounds as if they want to keep these Bradley and Colin characters around. We'll have to wait until Bradley and Colin's duties are done or until everyone else is sleeping, and then we can get the shield. That Jeremy fellow said it's still back in the cave, so we can get it and then run."

"Will we even be able to run from these people?" Merlin asked. "We were alone in that cave. I know we were. That they appeared so suddenly means they must have powerful magic."

"That's why we're going to play along," Arthur said in that tone he used when he thought Merlin was being particularly dense, "and wait till we have a chance to escape. Now come on – we have to get changed and get out there. Let me do the talking. I can get the information we need from Jeremy."

Merlin nodded. "All right. We'll do it your way. But something isn't right. Something about this place is...off." He could feel it in his magic; these woods weren't the woods they'd roamed before.

Arthur arched an eyebrow at him. "Of course we're doing it my way. Have you forgotten who gives the orders around here?"

"Have you forgotten your round table and its equality?"

"No," Arthur said with that exaggerated patience again, "but you seem to have forgotten who has years of military strategy training."

 _And you don't know who has a lifetime of magic_ , Merlin thought, but he resumed tugging on Arthur's boots anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

"Sire, is everything all right?" Percival stepped out of the trees, leading a train of horses behind him. "I heard shouting."

"Arthur's gone mad," Gwaine said easily, and Leon cast him another scandalized look. Gwaine tossed his head and directed another megawatt grin in Bradley's direction. "Still want to go home and watch Buffy, Sire?"

Percival looked politely confused. "What's Buffy?"

Colin offered up his patented Merlin grin, one that was two parts adorable, one part exasperation – if the fangirls online were to be believed. Bradley had never been so glad Colin was such an amazing actor.

"It's nothing," Colin said easily. "Arthur just took a sharp blow to the head after swooning like a maiden, so I had to haul him topside for a dose of fresh air before we have another go at the shield."

Lancelot raised his eyebrows. "So the shield is down in the cave?"

Colin nodded. "Yeah. I glimpsed it before His Royal Clumsiness dropped his torch and left us floundering in the dark. Lucky for me, I always have a candle and a way with matches."

Bradley took an Arthur-like swipe at Colin, who dodged with Merlin's semi-grace, and it was both exhilarating and terrifying to slide into character like this and just run with it. "Have some respect for your future king. I was _not_ clumsy. I was merely – startled. By the possibility of magical attack. I defended Merlin, but as always, his attempts to participate in his own defense sent things awry."

Elyan and Gwaine both looked amused while Lancelot and Leon cast Merlin sympathetic looks.

Percival said, "Maybe, if His Highness needs fresh air, he and Merlin should stay with the horses while some of us attempt to achieve the shield."

Gwaine, who'd snatched his sword from Colin after Colin used it to make his shocking – and bloody – point, held his sword aloft. "Sounds like an excellent plan to me. Stay here, Arthur, and try not to be such a princess."

Bradley spluttered, genuinely indignant at being called a princess, but when Leon turned to him in search of affirmation, Bradley nodded regally. Percival, Gwaine, Leon, and Elyan headed into the cave, which left Lancelot to stand beside Merlin and help him with the horses.

Bradley went over to Arthur's horse and poked in the saddlebags for water and food. He turned up bread, some cheese and dried meat. He puzzled over the rest of the saddlebags' contents and pretended not to listen to Lancelot fuss quietly over Colin. Then Bradley realized that Colin couldn't eat half of what the knights had brought with them. He was lactose intolerant and vegetarian. He'd be restricted to bread and water alone unless Bradley managed to find something different. Bradley glanced over at Colin and Lancelot looked up. He pinned Bradley with a look, one Bradley had seen often enough from Santiago, especially during the filming of last season's finale. It was his _I'm pining for Gwen_ face, which was a mixture of hurt and anger. The fans complained about it, and Bradley had always reckoned they were half-right, that Arthur was too mean to Merlin, but the way the knights were so protective of Colin made Bradley feel downright bad for Merlin if Lancelot was looking at him like that over his treatment of Colin.

And then it occurred to him – if he and Colin were here, did it mean the actual Arthur and Merlin were there in the twenty-first century, on the film set at the Chester caves?

Bradley tugged the loaf of bread out of the saddlebag and headed over toward where Lancelot was asking Colin about his hand.

"Merlin," he said, and Colin responded automatically, which was a good thing.

"Yes, Sire?" Colin had a delicious talent for making honorifics sound like the gravest of insults, but this was one of those rare instances where he said Sire like he meant it.

"You should eat." Bradley tore off a hunk of bread and held it out. "I know it's been a while."

"Oh. Thanks. Is there anything else to be had?" Colin craned his neck to peer at Arthur's horse. (What was it called? Bradley's horse was called Torrento, but Arthur had a different horse. Colin would know what it was called – after all, he was Professor Morgan. Or so Bradley had told the entirety of the television-watching population of Wales one time.)

"Cheese and meat," Bradley said, and Colin wrinkled his nose.

Lancelot must have misread Colin's expression, because he said, "I'll share some of my venison with you, if you like."

Colin shook his head quickly. "No, thank you, Lancelot. I've been feeling a bit ill lately. Bread is probably all I can stomach."

Lancelot went to shoot Bradley another accusing look, but enough was enough. Even if Bradley and Colin were pretending to be Arthur and Merlin, they were both still Bradley and Colin, if trapped in some alternate dimension or in the past or something, and it was Bradley's job to look after Colin, because this entire mess had magic written all over it, and Bradley was the only one who could rescue them.

"Lancelot," Bradley said, "please ensure that the horses will be ready to ride at a moment's notice. We encountered no magical traps in the cave, so the others will likely get farther than we did, but we may need to depart quickly."

Lancelot nodded and moved toward the horses.

"Come on, Merlin," Bradley said, and he was too good at sounding bossy like Arthur sometimes. "Sit down. You're delicate. You need your rest."

Colin offered a few token Merlin protests, but then they sat down on a fallen log together.

"Thanks," Colin said quietly. "It's been ages since I've eaten."

"I know," Bradley said. "Me too."

"So...what do we do once they get the shield?" Colin asked.

"If I remember rightly from the script, don't you sneak a message to a camp of Druids and get them to help spread the word about it? And then Morgause and Morgana come running to Camelot, while you and Gaius ambush them with your magic." Bradley hummed thoughtfully. "I see no reason to carry on as planned."

"You and I both know that more often than not, Uther Pendragon's plans are cracked," Colin said. “Not to mention, I don’t have magic.”

"I know." Bradley sighed. He went to rub his face, then paused, tugged off the leather gloves. He closed his eyes. "I know we're meant to be in character, but I need a moment to attempt to suppress my panic."

"You look pretty suppressed to me," Colin said.

Bradley opened one eye and arched an eyebrow.

Colin nodded. "I'll just...play up the swooning Arthur card."

"Do what you must," Bradley said with an air of long-suffering, because if they could banter, if they could help each other stay sane, then this situation wasn't as bad as it could be. Colin straightened up and affected an air of studied indifference, gazing around at the trees, and Bradley took the opportunity to close his eyes.

And look at the Tapestry.

The warp and weft of reality hit him like a sledgehammer. It was drenched in magic, thicker than anything he'd ever known, because in this world, people still believed in magic in their daily lives, would let reality bend to a mage's will for help or harm, and Bradley could feel it singing to him. He could reach out, curl time in his fingers, bring lightning from the sky, halt an arrow from a thousand paces, because the world was _magic_.

And it had a gaping hole in it.

Bradley's eyes flew open, but it was too late, he'd gotten too close to the energy convergence. The last thing he heard was Colin's desperate shout, and then he really did swoon.

Bradley came to precisely ten minutes and thirty-eight seconds later. Even in this world where reality was permeated with magic, he could still tell time with unerring ease. The forest swam back into focus, and with it the faces of Colin and Arthur’s knights. Percival looked placid and almost disinterested; he was holding the shield of the Blood Guard. Gwaine looked, as always amused, while Elyan, Leon, and Lancelot looked very alarmed.

Colin eased Bradley up into a sitting position, and Leon thrust a wineskin at him. Bradley drank sparingly even though the wine was heavily watered down. He didn’t have Arthur’s tolerance for alcohol, not with the way people drank it in this time, and he couldn’t afford to lose control while it felt like his magic was swimming around his head without him.

“What happened?” Colin asked. “One moment we were sitting together, and then you just – toppled over. Like a felled tree.”

“He must have hit his head harder than previously surmised,” Leon said, and he hunkered down beside Colin. “Let me see, Sire.”

Bradley obediently leaned forward and winced when Leon found the knot at the base of his skull. He was pretty sure Arthur wouldn’t ordinarily let anyone manhandle him like this except maybe for Gaius, but he wasn’t Arthur. He was a shell-shocked mage who’d seen a hole in the Tapestry.

The Tapestry was reality, and someone – or something – had punched through it. He and Colin had fallen through the hole. The real Arthur and Merlin (it made Bradley’s head swim to think of them as real) had either been pushed through, or perhaps Merlin, in an act of monumental-but-Howard-would-totally-write-it stupidity, had made the hole himself.

“What do you think, Merlin?” Percival asked. “You’re the physician’s assistant.”

Colin and Bradley both knew that ‘assistant’ was putting it nicely, but Colin was more sensible than Merlin, so Bradley tipped his head forward and let Colin check him.

“There’s no blood,” he said. He peered at Bradley. “I need you to look at me.”

Bradley obeyed.

Colin held up a hand. “Can you follow my finger?”

Bradley could, but when Colin brought his finger close to Bradley’s nose it made his head swim some more.

“Do you taste anything weird and metallic in your mouth, like you want to be sick?” Colin asked.

Bradley shook his head gingerly. “No. I don’t have a concussion. Just...we’ll talk about this later.” He levered himself onto his feet and was glad when Colin stepped in to support him. On any other day, in any other place, he’d have let Santiago or Rupert hold him up, but these men were strangers. Bradley might know their faces and voices and maybe even some of their lives, but they were an unknown quantity, and a potentially dangerous one at that. “You got the shield,” he said, unnecessarily, but Percival nodded and hefted it for him to see.

“Good,” Bradley said. “Strap it to the horse and let’s go.”

“Go where?” Leon asked.

Bradley glanced at Colin.

Colin nodded.

“We’ll skirt the edges of Cenred’s kingdom, over the ridge of Ascetir where the Druids are,” Bradley said. He thought he sounded like Arthur. Or maybe he sounded like himself, tired and fed up with nonsense and desperate to just get things done so he could go home and watch Buffy and cackle over Giles singing and imagine a singing King Uther.

“Very good, sire,” Percival said, and he headed toward one of the horses.

“Are you fit to ride?” Elyan asked.

“Merlin can ride with me,” Bradley said. “And the shield can go on his horse.”

“I’ll lead Merlin’s horse,” Lancelot said.

Bradley inclined his head in what he hoped was a noble fashion and winced when his head protested the movement. “Thank you.” He tried to ease some of his weight off of Colin’s shoulder. “Come along.”

Thankfully Bradley could mount on his own, but he decided, bollocks with being princely, his head ached, the hole in the Tapestry was gnawing the edges of his subconscious – he’d deal with the indignity of Colin riding behind him and holding onto him like a concerned nursemaid. As they set off through the trees, Leon thankfully leading the way, even Gwaine was looking a bit worried.

“What’s at the Ridge of Ascetir?” Percival asked.

“It’s been well-known to house Druids,” Bradley said, and this subject he was comfortable with.

Gwaine blanched again, and Bradley realized that even though it had never come out of the writers’ pens, Gwaine must know about Merlin’s magic.

Elyan and Percival looked puzzled, but Leon nodded.

“If we tell the Druids about the shield, surely Morgana and Morgause will hear about it,” he said.

“The last time we went into a Druid camp, Arthur threatened one of their children,” Gwaine said. “Maybe it should just be me, Lancelot, and Merlin who speak to the Druids.”

Colin said, “Once Arthur helped me and Morgana save a Druid boy, one important to the Druids. They’ll talk to Arthur. They respect him as the Once and Future King.”

“The what king?” Leon asked.

“Oops,” Colin muttered under his breath.

“Salvage it,” Bradley hissed.

“The Druids have legends. About a great king who will unite all of Albion and it’s, um, Arthur.” Colin sounded exactly like stammering Merlin, which was perfect, because Gwaine burst out laughing, and Percival and Elyan looked amused as well.

“How do you know these things?” Leon asked.

Bradley said, “Perhaps I don’t say it enough, but Merlin is much wiser than he looks. Sometimes.”

Lancelot looked non-plussed and said, “I don’t think you’ve ever said that before, Sire.”

“Oh please, you only believe Merlin when it feeds your pride,” Gwaine said, and he was still hiccuping with laughter.

Colin huffed, exasperated. “Whether or not the legend is true, the Druids believe it, and so they’ll help us.”

“What about Grettir?” Gwaine asked, sobering up a little. “He seems to know a thing or two about magic. Maybe he knows Morgana and Morgause.”

“Best as I can tell, he holds no affection for Morgana,” Bradley said, remembering the scene with Warwick Davis. Arthur hadn’t understood the implication about the bracelet he was wearing, but Bradley understood it just fine.

“Maybe if we’re honest with him, then, he’ll help us,” Elyan said.

“But what are the chances of us finding him again?” Percival asked. “He appeared, gave us help, and then...vanished.”

Gwaine rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “He does have a habit of that. Well, Druids it is then.”

Leon took point, hand ready on the pommel of his sword, and Percival and Lancelot flanked him obediently. Elyan and Gwaine hung back a ways, talking and laughing quietly amongst themselves, and it gave Bradley and Colin a chance to talk.

“Are you feeling all right?” Colin asked. “What happened back there?”

The first time Bradley had fainted at seeing the Tapestry, his mother had been understanding and sympathetic. His sister had laughed herself silly, because the first time she’d seen the Tapestry, she’d managed to reweave it, if only for a while. Of course, Bradley couldn’t explain any of that to Colin, couldn’t tell him that there was a hole in the magical reality of this world, and they had to find a way to go through it and get the real Merlin and Arthur back lest the balances of both realities go awry and send everything spiraling into destruction.

“I think...maybe I did hit my head. In the cave,” Bradley said.

Colin sounded dubious. “Really? You sounded more alert than I was, what with thinking to use the candle and all.”

“I don’t feel so good now,” Bradley confessed.

Colin curled a hand at his shoulder, the touch gentle. Bradley wished he didn’t have to be in character right then, because in real life he and Colin were best mates. They could sprawl all over each other at the end of a long day and laugh, could bump shoulders and huddle under a blanket together, could comfort each other. Here they were master and servant, and even if Arthur and Merlin had a comfortable, informal relationship, they weren’t proper friends, not quite, and Bradley-as-Arthur couldn’t sulk and let Colin fuss over him like sometimes Colin would.

“Maybe we should stop and make camp?” Colin suggested. “Only...I was never a boy scout, and I’m pants at starting a fire.”

“Elyan’s the son of a blacksmith. I’m sure he could do it,” Bradley said.

“Do you want me to ask the others?” Colin asked.

“No. We should push on. The sooner we get word about the shield out, the sooner we can get back to Camelot and have a chat with Gaius and...” Bradley swallowed. “In retrospect, I’m not sure I actually want to see a dragon.”

“I hadn’t even thought of that, not properly,” Colin said. He hummed and rested his chin on Bradley’s shoulder, just for a moment, but then the sound of Gwaine’s laughter must have reminded him where they were, and he straightened up and away from Bradley again.

Actors were meant to get into each other’s space. It was one of the benefits of being an actor, really, because Bradley was a horribly tactile person (his mother had scraps of a blanket with holes rubbed in it from Bradley’s constant worrying at the fabric as a child) and being an actor gave him the excuse to occasionally have no personal boundaries. Even though Colin was shy, he was an actor too, and a bloody good one, and he was usually nice enough to let Bradley into his space.

“Bradley,” Colin said, “I was just thinking, if we go see the Druids...I’m not Merlin. They’ll know that, won’t they? That I’m not Emrys. Because I don’t have magic. If they try their weird telepathy with me, I won’t be able to hear it, and they’ll know something’s off.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.” Bradley sighed and rubbed his forehead. His headache was receding a little, but he had to make a concerted effort not to reach out and just pluck the strands of the Tapestry, because this place was magic, and it could turn him into ten times the Mage he was born to be. If he went with Colin to the Druids, would they know he had magic? Would they force him to reveal his secret?

“Maybe we should send Gwaine, who seems friendly enough with magic, and Leon, because they healed him one time, and...Lancelot. Because he’s so happy and nice about magic too.” _And so he’ll stop bloody well glaring at me_ , Bradley thought, but didn’t say it aloud.

“That’s probably a better idea,” Colin said. He nudged Bradley’s shoulder with his. “D’you want to do your princely thing and tell them about it?”

Bradley straightened up and took a deep breath, closed his eyes, gathered Arthur’s character around him.

He fancied himself a decent enough actor - he’d done well in school, and he’d landed a role in a primetime BBC production, for heaven’s sake - but seeing men who he knew were trained, deadly warriors bowing to his will like he really was a prince, a man who could lead armies and someday run a kingdom, was both terrifying and exhilarating.

The knights accepted their orders readily enough, and Bradley was ready to drop Arthur and close his eyes, talk to Colin some more, maybe apologize for the hair gel-toothpaste incident so, for a few moments in this wild forest, things could feel normal, but then Gwaine dropped back to ride beside them.

“What have you two been gossiping like kitchen maids about?”

“You,” Bradley said easily, and the shock that spread across Gwaine’s face was worth a million pounds.

Colin cleared his throat pointedly. “What His Royal Pratliness meant to say is that we were discussing what preparations we need to make in order to ambush Morgana and Morgause once we returned to the citadel.”

“Of course,” Gwaine said, and he cast Bradley a look askance. “I have some suggestions, if I may, seeing how both women have magic and Camelot seems to have the most non-secure dungeons and castle at the most inconvenient times.”

Bradley lifted his chin. “I’d be glad of your counsel, Sir Gwaine.”

Gwaine nodded and launched into a long exposition about warning bells, underground tunnels, additional patrols, and nets and pits full of spikes, all the while casting Colin pointed looks. Bradley knew he’d have to let Colin wander off on his own and play Merlin, that he would have to discuss magical defenses with Gwaine and Lancelot, but for now, he hoped he could remember what Gwaine was saying, because he’d likely have to repeat it sometime in the near future.

Elyan called for Gwaine a few moments later, and Gwaine inclined his head politely before spurring his horse forward.

“You almost dropped the game there,” Colin said, and he was still keeping Merlin’s accent up gamely, but a few of his R’s rolled in a suspiciously Northern Irish fashion, and Bradley sighed.

“Yeah. Just – I couldn’t resist. I was going to rib him about flirting with Gwen that one time. Have you see how Lancelot keeps glaring at me? He loves Merlin and hates Arthur, obviously, but he could do with being a bit more subtle about it. Everyone loves Merlin and hates Arthur, it seems,” Bradley said.

“Well,” Colin said, “maybe when we get to Camelot, you should refrain from kissing Gwen. In public. Or ever.”

“Hell,” Bradley said with feeling. “Gwen. What am I going to do?”

“I know,” Colin said in a low voice. “Usually you have to do three takes before you get the kisses right.”

Bradley gave into the urge to facepalm.

Up ahead, Leon called the party to a halt, so Colin reined in Arthur’s horse (which was, thankfully, a placid mount, which was probably only because Colin had the reins – animals seemed to sense how sweet Colin was), and they waited while Leon, Percival, and Elyan consulted a map.

“We should stop here for camp, Sire,” Leon said. “It’s another day’s ride to Ascetir.”

“All right,” Bradley said, mustering up some Arthurian bluster. “Camp it is. Elyan, you’re the blacksmith’s son. I trust you to start a fire. Take whoever you need to fetch firewood and kindling. Percival, I trust you with the horses. Gwaine, take Lancelot and find food – some mushrooms and berries if you can would be nice. Merlin, you’ll stay with me.”

For three seconds, Bradley was sure someone would protest, because whenever he tried to give orders to his sister or his cabal siblings, they laughed and flashed him the twos. But the knights dismounted and set to work, and Bradley felt Colin heave a sigh of relief.

“Thanks,” Colin said.

“For what?” Bradley slid off the horse cautiously, extended a hand to help Colin.

“For thinking to have them find some food for me,” Colin said.

Bradley caught Lancelot looking at him oddly and remembered that Arthur would never help Merlin off a horse, but it was too late.

“You’re welcome,” Bradley said. “Remember, we’re not really Merlin and Arthur, and I’d never be as horrible to you as Arthur is to Merlin.”

“I know,” Colin said, “but you’re taking a risk. And I appreciate it. You’ve been awfully good about this whole thing.” He reached up and began unfastening the saddlebags, and it was a good thing the producers actually made Colin do chores on camera sometimes, because it meant he actually knew what he was doing.

“We’ll find a way home,” Bradley said. “I promise.” The Tapestry curled at the edges of his senses, and he knew he could make good on that promise, but he had the sinking feeling that it would be at the expense of his friendship with Colin.

* * *

Merlin and Arthur had just sorted out how to tie the laces on the strange little boots when Jeremy reappeared. His hair was mussed and he was red in the face and he looked frustrated.

“Hey guys, I’m really sorry about this, but I have to call Johnny and rearrange the shooting schedule, because this has set us behind an entire day. I called craft services so you can eat if you like, but the van will be here soon to take you back into town if you’d prefer that instead,” he said.

Arthur straightened up, and Merlin cringed internally. He knew that look on Arthur’s face; it was his very determined expression, the one he wore before he decided to do something terribly heroic and even more terribly stupid.

“No need to apologize, good man,” Arthur said.

Jeremy blinked.

Merlin was forcibly reminded of the time Arthur had swept into a tavern in Enged and declared “Greetings!” in ringing tones, addressing himself for all and sundry – and sundry ruffians they were, filling that tavern – to hear and know that he was the Right and Royal Heir to the throne of Camelot. He’d used that same tone here, and as far as Merlin knew, no one thought Bradley was the heir to anything.

“Thanks, Bradley,” Jeremy said slowly, eyeing Arthur as if he thought Arthur was slightly mad. “I appreciate yours and Colin’s patience.” He glanced at Merlin for confirmation, so Merlin nodded.

 _Colin_ , he thought to himself. _If anyone asks, my name is Colin. Colin of...where_?

“You said you needed us to ‘run lines’,” Arthur said. “Is that still necessary?”

“I trust you two to do it on your own. You’ve always been quite good about it – or at least Colin is, and I’m sure he’ll drag you along,” Jeremy said. “You can stay if you like, but there’s really nothing to be done. Andreas might have a sword fight for you to learn later this evening, but we’re finished with shooting until further notice.”

“Shooting?” Arthur echoed and cast Merlin a glance.

Shooting things meant hunting. So these people were in the forest for some sort of hunting expedition? Merlin felt himself wilt. He absolutely despised hunting.

Jeremy nodded. “Yes, it’s done for the day. Possibly for the week, at this location. If things don’t get sorted out by tomorrow evening, I imagine you’ll be back in Cardiff at the studio getting started on the next block.”

Arthur frowned thoughtfully, and Merlin knew that look too, and he didn’t like it either. Arthur was many things - a fine warrior, an excellent leader, a fine tactician. One thing he wasn’t, however, was subtle, but he was wearing his _let’s be canny_ face, and Merlin had to intervene. Fast. Before something terrible happened.

“What about the shield? When will we be able to get it?” Arthur asked, still in measured tones.

“Who knows,” Jeremy said. “If all else fails, we can shoot the shield scene back in the studio at Cardiff.”

Arthur nodded slowly, and he still wore that expression that usually fooled King Uther into thinking he was about to make a weighty decision (the body of a lion, the wings of an eagle, and the face of a bear indeed), and Merlin had to jump in and say something, anything, to distract Jeremy from figuring out the truth, because whatever was going to come out of Arthur’s mouth was going to ruin everything.

“You said the shield was just down there in the cave. Surely it wouldn’t be a difficulty for one of us to take a torch and just...fetch it. Very quickly.” Arthur lifted his chin imperiously.

Jeremy arched an eyebrow, and he didn’t look as severe as Gaius did with his eyebrow, but Merlin could read skepticism in every line of his face. Maybe Bradley wasn’t all that interested in the shield. If these people were involved in some complicated hunting expedition that involved running lines and bizarre equipment, the shield was probably the least of their worries. And maybe, if they had magic, they wanted the shield to stay exactly where it was. Only Jeremy had implied that Colin and Bradley would be fetching the shield sometime in the future.

“Is this for some sort of...prank?” Jeremy asked.

Arthur kept a straight face. “A prank?” he echoed, and Merlin wished Arthur would let him speak up. Despite Arthur’s assertions to the contrary, Merlin was quite good at sounding innocent when he needed to. After all, he’d had years and years of practice at being _not a sorcerer in case you were asking, thanks_ and what would he know about magic? _Nothing_.

“Are you wanting the shield for a prank?” Jeremy asked.

Arthur was silent for a long moment – too long, Merlin was sure. Any moment now, Jeremy was going to realize they weren’t Bradley and Colin.

But then Arthur nodded solemnly and said, “Yes. We need the shield. For a prank.”

Jeremy slewed a glance at Merlin, and Merlin adopted his most innocent expression, which he hoped was suitably Colin-like.

“As much as I’d like to see the looks on Katie and Angel’s faces when you do whatever it is you do, I’d rather not call the wrath of the art department down on my head and –” Someone called Jeremy’s name, and he cursed and glanced at his watch. “Sorry lads. Must dash. Don’t forget to run your lines for the Big Reveal! You know the fans have been looking forward to it for three years now.” And he hurried away.

“What does that even mean?” Arthur called after him, and Merlin elbowed Arthur sharply in the ribs.

“Remember, we have to play along,” he said.

“We have to get that shield is what we have to do,” Arthur said. “It’s down there in that cave. Surely you can fetch us a torch and we can just –”

“Are you saying you want me to use a magic torch?” Merlin asked quietly.

Arthur took a deep breath, pressed his lips into a thin line. “We’re surrounded by magic We might not have a choice.”

“I’ve realized that,” Merlin said. “Whoever this Bradley and Colin are, apparently they’re accustomed to magic.” Then something occurred to him. “What if they have magic themselves?”

“So far no one has asked us to use any,” Arthur said, “so we’re safe for now. In fact, I don’t think they’ll ask us to, because neither Bradley nor Colin were expected to have a magic torch.” He cast a glance around them, and Merlin didn’t like the way his eyes narrowed. He was doing battle calculations again. “Everyone’s distracted. Surely we could just borrow a torch and get the shield.”

“But neither of us have magic,” Merlin said, as reasonably as possible. He could feel his palms beginning to sweat. “Who’s to say we can even get those torches to work?”

Arthur hefted his sword. “We can just use an old-fashioned one. Surely you still have a flint and tinder on you.”

“I left it in my pack with the horse,” Merlin said. He could use magic to light a torch – he’d done it dozens of times. And maybe with all the magic going on around them Arthur wouldn’t notice, but Merlin could see his face was pale, his expression drawn. Being around all this magic was obviously making him very tense. Merlin swallowed hard.

“Then we’ll improvise something,” Arthur said. “We _have_ to get that shield.”

“What if they discover we’re not Bradley and Colin? What will they do to us then?” Merlin asked.

“They won’t discover us if we’re quick about things,” Arthur said. He started back toward the cave. “Come on.”

“What about Leon and the others?” Merlin asked.

“There’s a campsite a few miles off where the knights routinely bivouac during long campaigns across Odin’s territory,” Arthur said. “If Leon ran – and I’m sure he did – then we can meet him and the rest there.”

Fear curled in Merlin’s gut. He hadn’t seen hide nor hair of horses, and these people kept threatening to send Bradley and Colin back in to town. What was in town? “What if they were caught?”

“Then we shall to free them,” Arthur said. He reached out and caught Merlin’s wrist. “Now come on.”

Arthur was many things, including irrational and foolhardy, and sometimes he was even suicidal in a beautifully heroic way, but this was not one of those beautifully heroic times. Merlin dug his heels in and resisted.

Arthur tugged. “ _Mer_ -lin, stop being such an idiot –”

“Aw, Colin, Bradley really does bully you on and off set,” Charlotte said. She stepped between the trees and strolled toward them, smiling brightly.

Arthur dropped Merlin’s wrist like it had burnt him. “My lady,” he began, but she shook her head and laughed.

“No use trying to deny it now. The fans will know the truth.” Charlotte turned her smile on Colin. “Come along. I’m sure you’re famished. Back in town someone will have something that won’t make you break out in hives if Bradley accidentally splashes some of it on you.”

As if on cue, Merlin’s stomach rumbled. Arthur glared at him, as if Merlin had deliberately betrayed him with his hunger.

“Why are you still carrying that armor?” Charlotte asked. She held out her hands. “Let me.”

Merlin glanced at Arthur, who tried to convey with as many odd expressions as possible that Merlin was not to surrender the royal armor under any circumstances.

“It’s quite heavy,” Merlin began, but Charlotte shook her head.

“I know – more real or whatever. Wardrobe’s budget was increased this year.” She reached out and plucked the armor from Merlin’s arms with nary a flinch, which caused Arthur to scowl.

“My lady,” Arthur tried.

“I’m fine,” Charlotte said. “No use attempting to be polite now.”

“I could look after the armor,” Merlin said. Charlotte arched an eyebrow, puzzled by Merlin’s enthusiasm for the armor, enthusiasm Colin probably didn’t have, so Merlin fell silent.

“The van is here.” Charlotte beckoned, and then she turned and headed back through the trees. Clearly, she expected Merlin and Arthur to follow her. Arthur hefted his sword, then strode after her. Merlin trailed behind. He cast an anxious glance over his shoulder and hoped Leon and the others really had escaped.

The van Charlotte led them to was a white metal box on wheels, suspiciously like a cage. Arthur hesitated at the door, and Merlin paused beside him. Then another door in the side of the box opened, and a man said,

“Climb in, lads. This’ll be the last van into town for a few hours.”

He was an elderly fellow with white hair and a kind face, and he seemed harmless enough, but Sophia had seemed harmless at first, too. As had Edwin. And Trickler. And Lady Catrina. Not Morgause, though. Any girl who could stand half a fight with Arthur was dangerous.

Arthur was clutching his sword so tightly his knuckles were white. Merlin offered the man a tentative smile and reached out with his senses. He hadn’t had much opportunity to do it as a child, but since coming to Camelot and spending loads of time fending off magical attacks against the monarchy, he’d become attuned to sensing magic around him.

And he realized that he...didn’t feel magic. At all. Not from the earth and the trees around them, where he could usually feel at least the thrum of the songs from the Old Religion (which was why, as a general rule, he was glad to go herb-picking for Gaius). There was no magic in the white van, or in the old man smiling at them or...anywhere at all. Once the baker’s wife had caught Merlin and Will skinny-dipping in mill pond when they were fifteen and aware enough of the changes in their bodies to be horrifyingly embarrassed about it, but just now, in a place bereft of all magic, Merlin felt even more naked, exposed, and alone.

Whatever this world was, it wasn’t the world he knew, because all the magic was gone.

The man’s smile dimmed slightly, and he looked puzzled. “Lads? Are you going back into town?”

“Yes,” Arthur said, and he moved toward the van. Then he paused, puzzled, and the old man reached out, tugged open another door. Inside the van were benches like the kind in the front of a cart, so Arthur climbed onto one, perching tentatively. The interior of the van looked small and cramped and even more cage-like, and Merlin was reminded, painfully, of Freya in Halig’s cage. But then Arthur cast Merlin a sharp look, and he scrambled to follow.

The old man shut the door and resumed his place on the bench at the front, and his hands were curled around a curious black wheel. He glanced in the mirror mounted above him and smiled again.

“Buckle up, lads.”

And the white box roared to life.

Arthur immediately flung an arm in front of Merlin to shield him, and then, to both their amazement, the white box rumbled forward.

“It’s moves without horses,” Arthur whispered. “It must be magic.”

Merlin nodded, numb with shock, but he knew it was no magic at all. It was science, science beyond comprehension. Gaius would be amazed and disappointed if Merlin didn’t return with notes, but then the van was lurching through the trees – and the trees vanished, gave way to a road paved black with unnatural smoothness, a road that hadn’t been there hours before when they’d ridden through on their horses.

Merlin closed his eyes and took a deep breath, reached out with his magic again, and he knew.

“Arthur,” he said, keeping his voice low, and he couldn’t help the edge of desperation creeping up his throat, “I don’t think we’re in Albion anymore.”

Maybe he didn’t need to say it, because Arthur’s eyes were wide and his face pale as he gazed out the window out the front of the van, at the smooth road and the dozens of other vans – of all shapes, sizes, colors – whizzing past them at breathtaking, impossible speeds.

“I think,” Arthur said, voice strangled by shock, “that, for once in your life, you’re right.”

The old man guiding the van said nothing, merely hummed quietly to himself, and soon the road gave way to what must have been the town, for a collection of buildings sprang up out of seemingly nowhere. Once again, they were buildings of the likes of which Merlin had never seen before. Everything was stone, yes, but all the lines were dazzlingly straight, and all the houses had glass in their windows, and the too-smooth roads ran everywhere.

Merlin recognized the sign for an inn easily enough when the van stopped beside a tall white building, one almost as tall as a castle turret. The old man opened the door for them, and they climbed out quickly, Arthur clutching his sword, Merlin with the black bags Charlotte had given them.

“See you lads tomorrow,” the old man said.

Arthur nodded tightly. Merlin managed half a wave before Arthur caught him by the wrist and dragged him away from the van, around the corner and out of the old man’s sight.

“Merlin,” Arthur said, voice low and desperate, “we have got to get back home. Now.”

“If I knew how we could do that, I’d have told you already.” Merlin frowned, annoyed, because he was just as unsettled at being in this place as Arthur was.

Arthur closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I know. I just – Sir Leon and the others. They’re alone.”

“They’re armed, and they’re knights. They’re a sight better off than we are,” Merlin said.

“This is a town,” Arthur said. “Surely there’s a library here. You must do research while I find us a safe place to rest the night and also some food.” He cast a wary glance at their surroundings.

Merlin shook his head quickly. “I think we should stay together. We might never find each other again if we go our separate ways –”

“Merlin,” Arthur said sharply, and Merlin ducked his head.

“All right. Fine. Just – we have to meet here. Right here. Exactly this spot at sundown,” Merlin said.

Arthur nodded, clearly thinking he’d won this round, and then King Uther’s voice rang out.

“Bradley! Colin! What brings you back so early? If you’d been back just a bit earlier you could have come to supper with us.”

Merlin felt his heart lurch into his throat. Uther was here? Then he knew there was magic around, and he might know about Merlin’s magic, and – hang on. He’d just called them Bradley and Colin.

Arthur spun around, and both of them stared. The man who was strolling toward them looked almost exactly like Uther, but he was dressed in the same clothes as the others from the forest, and the scar above his right eye was gone, and...was that a jewel glinting in one of his ears? Like a bandit?

“Us?” Arthur echoed faintly.

Uther smiled, the expression gentle and indulgent, the sort of smile Arthur always craved from his father. “Angel and Katie, of course.” He looked them up and down, and Merlin was shocked when Uther met his gaze square on, without a hint of condescension or arrogance. “Are you lads all right? I thought you were going to be down in the cave for hours.”

Arthur’s throat worked as he searched for words, clearly shocked out of his wits.

Merlin recovered first. “The lights in the caves went out,” he said, repeating what he’d heard. “We’ve been set behind schedule and might have to shoot with the shield back in Cardiff.”

“That’s rotten luck,” Uther said, and then he frowned. “Have you just come from the set? You’re still talking like Merlin.”

Merlin closed his mouth abruptly. Apparently Arthur and Bradley sounded exactly the same, but Merlin and Colin did not. What was Colin supposed to sound like? Terror began to curl at the base of Merlin’s spine, holding him immobile. Had he just given them away?

Arthur finally managed to speak. “We have to run lines. Jeremy said so.” This running lines business seemed to cover all manner of sins, so Merlin nodded his agreement.

That gentle smile spread across Uther’s face, and Merlin knew that man wasn’t really Arthur’s father but some sort of uncanny look-alike, the same way Bradley and Colin looked just like Arthur and Merlin. This world, whatever it was, was full of look-alikes from home.

So Merlin probably should have expected to see Morgana – also dressed scandalously like a man – come striding across the black road toward them, but to see her smiling teasingly, like her old self, back before she’d learnt of her power, made Merlin’s heart stop.

He immediately lowered his gaze and bowed his head in deference to the King’s Ward, but then Uther said,

“Look at that – he’s still in character.”

Morgana clicked her tongue. “You boys overdo it. If my night of filming had cut off early, I’d be doing something fun, like going round the pub with Joe.”

Merlin dared to glance up from beneath his lashes, and she was looking at Arthur. “Let me guess,” she said, “you’re rereading the lines for The Big Reveal again, are you? Have to get it just right for the fans, the pitch and the tone, the emotion, every single gesture. I can’t wait to see how it turns out. I expect it to move me to tears, just so you know.”

 _The Big Reveal_. Earlier, Jeremy had mentioned that they needed to run the lines for it. Whatever it was, it must have been important, as it seemed loads of people wanted to see it. Whatever it was. The Big Reveal. It sounded...grand. World-moving. Only Merlin and Arthur’s world had already been moved. Arthur was still gazing at Uther, looking shocked and confused.

“Tony, Katie, don’t start without me.”

Merlin and Arthur both turned at the sound of Gwen’s voice, and she looked like Gwen all right, but dressed as scandalously as Morgana. When she looked at Arthur she looked at him the way she had before that stupid jousting tournament where Arthur almost got himself killed, before the quest through the wildren-infested caves where Arthur almost got Merlin killed.

Gwen trotted toward them. “Tony’s brought his guitar this time and promised to break out a few classics. What d’you say, Bradley? Maybe you can get some _Behind Blue Eyes_ out of him, or maybe even a number from that episode of Buffy.” She grinned mischievously.

“I’m not sure what you would have me say,” Arthur said, his voice steady but detached.

Gwen peered at him. “Are you all right?”

Only Merlin knew she wasn’t Gwen, not really, because the names were starting to fall into place. Morgana was Katie, who Jeremy had mentioned earlier, so Gwen was Angel, and Uther – he must have been Tony. Tony sounded like a man’s name. Jeremy had mentioned a prank involving Katie and Angel.

Merlin said, “Jeremy said Bradley and I are meant to use the shield. For a prank.”

Arthur tore his gaze away from Angel long enough to glare at Merlin for mentioning the shield.

Angel laughed softly. “Well, it won’t be much of a prank now that you told us about it. And why do you still sound like an Englishman?”

Merlin sounded like an Englishman? Whoever Colin was, he sounded like...something else, apparently.

“The Big Reveal,” Katie said knowingly. Merlin couldn’t help but search her face, seeking the faintest twitch, the barest glimmer in her eyes that would reveal her as the woman determined to kill her father and brother.

“Ah,” Angel said. “I suppose we ought to leave you two to it then, although you should take at least some short break and come hang out with us.”

“Just for you, Bradley,” Tony said, “we might have a sing-along Labyrinth viewing.”

Judging by the warmth in Tony’s expression when he said that, it was something important to Bradley, so Merlin nudged Arthur, hard, and Arthur nodded.

“Of course,” Arthur said stiffly. He was trembling, ever so faintly, from head to toe, and his hand on the hilt of his sword was bone-white. “Thank you.”

Angel reached up and brushed a lock of hair out of Arthur’s face, the gesture familiar and friendly, and Merlin saw Arthur flinch.

“You look exhausted. Maybe you should have a bit of a kip, yeah? Or just an early night.”

“That sounds...like an excellent idea,” Arthur managed to get out.

Merlin glanced at Katie and Tony, and they both looked confused, but neither of them looked wary or scheming as if they knew the men they were talking to weren’t their friends.

“We’ll be in Tony’s room if you want to join us later,” Katie said. “Good luck!”

Merlin waved, not daring to say anything further, and watched the three not-quite-strangers walk away. Angel glanced over her shoulder and laughed.

“Come on, you two. Hotel’s this way!”

Arthur nodded. “We’ll catch up to you in a minute.” He reached out, put a hand on Merlin’s shoulder when Merlin started to follow him.

“We’re in some sort of...alternate reality,” Arthur said in a low voice. “Where we exist, but we don’t. Everyone we’ve ever known is here, but they have different names and different lives and –”

His blue eyes were turning blank, distant, and Merlin knew he was thinking quickly, too quickly. He reached up and poked Arthur in the jaw. Irritation blossomed in Arthur’s eyes, and he ducked his head away.

“What was that for?”

“You’re thinking too hard,” Merlin said. “We should go inside this hotel and sit down. Surely these people have beds. And then we should eat food. And then – and then we should plan.”

Arthur took a deep breath. “Yes. Plan we shall. Rooms, food, plan. In that order. Let’s go.” He turned a smart about-face and started in the direction Tony, Katie, and Angel had gone.

Relief trickled through Merlin; Arthur was back to his old self, at least for a little while. Maybe, while Arthur fancied himself in control of the situation, Merlin would have a little time to try to sort this mess out. They were in a world where their own doppelgangers with different names ran about, sometimes pretending to be people from Merlin and Arthur’s world (or at least, Merlin and Arthur). They were cut off from Leon and the knights, from everything they knew.

Gaius’s voice pricked at the back of Merlin’s conscience. But for the stress of the situation, this was the perfect place to confess to Arthur.


	3. Chapter 3

Elyan took Leon to help him find firewood, and the rest of the knights scurried about doing chores, and Bradley found himself helping Colin lay out the bedrolls.

“Erm, Sire,” Colin said, stressing the honorific. “You’re helping me with a menial chore.”

For one second, Bradley was going to drop the edge of Gwaine’s bedroll like it was a hot coal, but then he just arched an eyebrow. “I am the future king of Camelot. I do have some skills.”

Colin smiled faintly and said, “Indeed you are very skilled. At getting people to do things for you.” Then he leaned in and lowered his voice. “You don’t think they’ll notice that you’re recycling lines?”

“Assuming our lines of dialogue were actual conversations in this universe,” Bradley said calmly, smoothing down the edge of Gwaine’s blanket, “it should be fine, since they weren’t present for most of our conversations.” Louder, he said, “The others are already doing things for the good of the camp. You didn’t think I’d let you off the hook just because you’re afraid of the dark and had a bit of a scare in the cave, did you?”

Colin squawked indignantly. “I am not afraid of the dark.”

Bradley clapped him on the shoulder, the gesture full of Arthur’s condescension. “It’s all right. We’re all strong knights. We’ll protect you.”

“Thanks,” Colin said, sounding faintly dubious.

Elyan and Leon returned laden down with firewood, and Bradley watched, anxious, while Elyan struggled to get the fire going. The wood was damp, because it had rained in the forest the night before, but soon enough a blaze was crackling in the center of camp. Percival had tethered all the horses close together nearest his bed roll and then dragged some fallen logs close to the fire for seating. Colin had arranged it so his and Bradley’s bedrolls were closest to each other. Whether that was because Colin knew that historically a servant slept near his master or because Colin was also wary of the others Bradley didn’t know, but he was grateful for Colin’s foresight, because it would give them a chance to talk once the others fell asleep.

“Merlin,” Bradley said, making an executive decision, “you and I have first watch.”

Colin frowned, confused, but then Elyan made a sympathetic noise, and Colin became an indignant Merlin in an instant. “But I’m not a knight. Why –”

“Because I said so,” Bradley said with Arthur’s firmness, and Colin wilted.

“Yes, Sire,” he said, sounding mulish, and Bradley saw Elyan hide a smile behind his hand. Even Percival, who was utterly stoic, looked faintly amused.

“Wine, Sire?” Leon asked, holding up his wineskin.

“No, thank you,” Bradley said, and eased himself down onto one of the logs. In the series, Arthur and Merlin always had water in canteens or leather skins. Why did no one have anything but booze?

“What about you, Merlin?” Leon asked.

“No, thanks,” Colin said, and sat beside Bradley, stretched his hands out toward the flames. With the sun dropping rapidly out of sight, the temperature was likely to take quite the plunge. “Best save it for Gwaine.”

Elyan laughed. “I’m pretty sure he’s saved more than enough for himself.”

“Did I hear my illustrious name?” Gwaine ducked past some boughs and into the camp, swinging a brace of coneys.

“I don’t know,” Bradley said archly. “Is your name illustrious?”

“It most definitely is,” Lancelot said, coming up behind Gwaine. “He was the one who found the edible mushrooms instead of the poisonous ones.”

“Thanks,” Merlin said. He jumped up and went to help Lancelot carry a tunic-full of berries and mushrooms over toward the fire.

Bradley watched Lancelot and Gwaine skin the rabbits with careless ease and felt his innards roil. He’d seen in a film once how a man skinned a rabbit with a single yank, but seeing it in real life – and smelling the blood that came with it – was another matter entirely. Percival spit the rabbits on sticks he’d been whittling while waiting for the others to return, and then they all settled in to enjoy the warmth of the fire.

“The Ridge of Ascetir has Druids, then,” Lancelot said.

Leon nodded. “I suppose I ought to have known. When I woke after they healed and fed me, I was up on the ridge.”

“Don’t you remember?” Bradley said. “When the Druids kidnapped Morgana, that’s where they took her. To the forest at Ascetir. We tracked them there.”

“Assuming they kidnapped her at all,” Colin muttered.

Leon’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Bradley glanced at Colin. “What do you mean?” He put a note of warning into his tone, because Colin was doing that thing he did, putting words in Merlin’s mouth that, while logical, had not come from the writers’ pens.

“At the time, we assumed the magic-users meant Morgana harm, but knowing that she allied with Morgause, a priestess of the Old Religion, maybe they were her allies,” Colin said.

“Then maybe we don’t want to go to the Druids,” Percival said.

Bradley shot Colin a look, a _Now look at what you’ve done_.

“No, no, we do,” Colin said quickly, and he winced apologetically. “I just meant...maybe Morgana wasn’t kidnapped. And maybe magic-users didn’t set her room on fire. And other things.”

“So the plan is still me, Gwaine, and Lancelot to see the Druids?” Leon asked.

Bradley nodded. “Yes. When we reach Ascetir, you will take the shield and show it to the Druids as proof while the rest of us wait. Depending on how it goes, we will either flee or make camp.”

Gwaine nodded. “Sire, what if the Druids offer to break bread with us? Will we turn them down?” He cast a significant look in Colin’s direction.

Bradley glanced at Colin as well, who shrugged, so Bradley chose. “If the Druids offer hospitality then...then we shall not offend them, especially not if we need their help.”

“Very good, Sire,” Leon said.

Lancelot cast a look at Colin as well and said, “But your father –”

“Is unlikely to ask about the trivial details of a quest,” Bradley said firmly, and Lancelot nodded.

“Rabbit’s ready,” Percival said, and conversation faded in lieu of divvying up the food. Colin declined the rabbit, citing an unsettled stomach once more, and when Bradley reckoned the others weren’t looking he gave Colin his share of berries and mushrooms in exchange for Colin’s cheese.

“Merlin and Arthur have first watch,” Leon said. “Who’s taking second, and who’s taking third?”

“We can take second,” Gwaine said, nudging Lancelot, who nodded distractedly.

“I guess that means two of us are up for third and someone gets a full night’s sleep.” Elyan raised his eyebrows at Leon.

Lancelot said, tone carefully neutral, “Surely Percival, as a knight, ought to take a shift of watch so Merlin can sleep.”

Bradley glanced at Colin. How often could he pull Arthur’s rank before Lancelot just lost it and threw his gauntlet down? Colin seemed to sense the same thing, for he said,

“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. Besides, Percival’s been stuck with the horses all day. He needs his sleep, same as the rest of us.” Colin smiled and added, “I know I’m not a knight, but I’m stronger than I look.”

“That you are,” Lancelot said fervently, and cast Bradley another covertly reproachful look.

To avoid saying something utterly out of Arthur’s character, Bradley concentrated on making a sandwich out of his rabbit, bread, and cheese. Percival, ever the thoughtful one, finished his food and fetched the shield from Merlin’s horse and placed it next to his bedroll. Gwaine attempted to instigate Elyan and Leon into a drinking game, which Leon steadfastly refused.

“We’re on a grand knightly quest,” Gwaine said. “Surely we should be singing bawdy songs or something.”

“You can sing, if you like,” Percival said. “I think I’m going to turn in, though.” He retreated to his bedroll.

“Since we have second watch, we should do the same,” Lancelot said.

Gwaine rolled his eyes and followed, as did Elyan. Leon lingered, however. Bradley knew he was being unfair, but he really wished Leon could go to sleep so he could finally stop pretending to be Arthur.

“Sire,” Leon said, voice soft so the others wouldn’t hear, “are you really doing all right? Are you sure you want to take a shift of watch?”

“I’m fine,” Bradley said firmly. He must not have been quite able to disguise the edge of impatience in his voice, because Leon ducked his head deferentially and nodded.

“Of course. Good night, Sire.” And he retreated to his bedroll.

Bradley watched him go and felt like a prat.

“He’s right,” Colin said in a low voice, and Bradley felt relief curl through him, because he finally sounded like Colin instead of Merlin. “Are you sure you should stay up?”

“We need to talk without them listening,” Bradley said. He scooted closer to Colin on the log.

“Aren’t we risking their lives, staying on watch when we’re totally untrained?” Colin asked.

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Bradley confessed. He rubbed the back of his neck, frustrated. The muscles were tight and giving him a headache, and the thrum of the Tapestry was giving him a headache, and he really, really wanted a hot cuppa. He plucked off Arthur’s gloves and reached down, toyed with Arthur’s ring. He wanted his own ring. Maybe here, in this world, they weren’t so defenseless even though their stage fighting skills were useless. But he couldn’t tell Colin that, could he?

“I think Gwaine knows Merlin has magic,” Colin said.

“Noticed that too, did you? He and Lancelot seem especially protective of Merlin,” Bradley said. “And what was that about Morgana back there? I don’t think that the others know that she has magic. Remember last season’s finale? Arthur asked Merlin, point blank, why Morgana was doing what she was doing, and Merlin said he didn’t know.”

“Maybe,” Colin said, “but Uther at least knows. In that scene in the cell, Morgana gave him the same speech she gave Merlin, about hating herself and thinking herself a monster.”

“Do you really think Uther admitted that not only was Morgana his daughter but he’d illegitimately spawned a girl who could do magic?” Bradley asked.

“Hmmm. Point. Does this mean Morgana and Morgause aren’t actually related? Because in series two Uther said they were half sisters, and Morgause wore a bracelet from the House of Gorlois, Morgana’s assumed father, but if Uther was really her father –”

“It makes all that flirting I did with Katie in series one really, really awkward,” Bradley said, and Colin laughed softly.

“Yeah, it does.” Colin finished off the last of his berries, then dusted the crumbs off his lap and fingers. “Do you think, if someone really had magic, he’d feel like a monster? Like if someone in our world had magic.”

“I suppose it would depend on what sort of magic he had and what he did with it,” Bradley said quietly. “And it would depend on the people around him, how they felt about magic. Same as Merlin, I suppose.”

“What makes you say that?” Colin asked.

Bradley twisted Arthur’s ring around his index finger and saw, out of the corner of his eye, the flames of the campfire leap higher. He let his hands fall into his lap. “Logic, I suppose. I mean – say someone only had magic that destroyed things. He’d be more likely to think himself a monster than someone who had magic to heal, right?”

Colin tilted his head curiously. “Do you think about it a lot? If someone you knew had magic?”

Bradley took a deep breath. “I suppose I’ve been thinking about it for the past three years, wondering how the producers were ever going to handle the Big Reveal, wondering how Arthur would react.”

“It sounds like you’ve been thinking about it more from Merlin’s point of view than from Arthur’s.”

Bradley felt his heart begin to edge its way up his throat. Was this how Merlin felt in Ealdor, moments away from laying down his life, about to confess to Arthur only to have Morgana shatter the moment? “I like to think Arthur has some ability for sympathy and empathy and would likely consider Merlin’s side of the story. After throwing a temper tantrum first.”

“Only that’s not how Johnny and the Julians wrote it,” Colin said.

Bradley nodded. “No, it isn’t. I guess they took what I said to heart and Arthur knew for a while.”

“They listen to us more than you’d think,” Colin said.

“Sometimes not. Or else I wouldn’t have to take my top off so often.”

Colin snorted. “Maybe.” He was still staring into the flames. “I suppose I’ve never really looked at the Big Reveal from Arthur’s point of view very much. It’s not really fair for Arthur to get angry on the one hand, because Merlin’s had to fear for his life this entire time, but on the other hand, Merlin has sort of betrayed Arthur’s trust, hasn’t he? Like lying to Arthur about his mother’s death.”

Bradley took a deep breath, and he felt like a bastard for doing this, for using his acting skills on Colin, but he had to summon some of his in-character focus or the words would jam up in his throat. “What about you, Colin? What would you do if someone you knew had magic?”

“I don’t know,” Colin said. He shrugged, smiled faintly. “It’s not like anyone in our world really has magic, though, is it?”

“Who’s to say this isn’t our world, just a different time?” Bradley asked.

“If it is our world, then its magic died long before you or I were born.” Colin glanced at Bradley and his grin turned sly, an expression Bradley had never seen on Merlin’s face. “Well, long before I was born. You on the other hand –”

“Shut it, youngster,” Bradley said, and shoved Colin’s shoulder.

He laughed. “Whatever, old man. If I ran, you couldn’t catch me.”

Bradley gestured to the shadows. “If you ran, you’d trip and fall and skewer yourself on a twig and then where would we be? There are no hospitals around here.”

“True. I suppose we’d best not risk it, then,” Colin said. He closed his eyes and rolled his shoulders; Bradley winced when he heard the popping sounds. He and Colin weren’t above giving each other back rubs at all, but the knights were likely light sleepers, and if they were caught rubbing each other down, it would be difficult to explain.

“So...tomorrow the Druids, and then after that, back to Camelot to talk to Gaius and get this business sorted out,” Bradley said.

“Do you think Gaius will believe us?”

“We’ll find a way to prove it to him,” Bradley said. “Like the time he tipped the bucket to show Merlin had magic, only in reverse. He’ll do something to which Merlin would automatically react with magic, and when you don’t, he’ll know. You’re not Merlin, and you don’t have magic.”

“Unless he just thinks Merlin has suddenly learnt excellent self-control,” Colin said.

“Maybe...maybe tell him something Merlin couldn’t possibly know, from the show,” Bradley said. “Like...the scene where he confronted Uther after the business with Aredian. Or something about Alice?”

“The problem is that there’s so much the series doesn’t cover.” Colin ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “Who knows what conversations Gaius and Merlin have had off-screen?”

“Like Gwaine knowing about Merlin’s magic,” Bradley said.

“We have a day or two to figure something out,” Colin said. “Maybe...let’s just forget it for now, and try to adjust to the fact that we’re in our own bloody TV show.”

Bradley couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing.

On the other side of the fire, the knights stirred. Colin smacked Bradley on the arm, and he tried to smother his laughter, but it wasn’t working.

“Colin, you know what? This is like something out of – out of Internet fanfiction,” Bradley said.

Colin arched an eyebrow. “You read that stuff?”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t.”

“I haven’t.”

“Liar.”

“Fine. I do think it’d be fun, if Arthur and Merlin switched bodies. Question is, is Merlin’s magic attached to his body, or to his soul? I think Merlin in Arthur’s body casting magic would be spectacular.” Colin smiled.

Bradley nodded. “It would be. And I think Arthur in Merlin’s body with fantastic sword skills would be fun to watch.”

“Oooh. I should tell Johnny about that. I’d like that a lot.”

“I’m sure you would, but I don’t think Andreas should give you a sword,” Bradley said.

“Oh please. I have my stage combat certificate, thank you very much.” Colin pretended to sniff haughtily.

Bradley studied his profile, his wicked grin, the grin that was pure Colin and never Merlin.

“Colin?” he said.

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you’re here with me. That I’m not alone.”

Colin tilted his head to one side, his expression turning solemn. “Thanks. I’m glad it’s you, too.”

He and Bradley studied each other for a long time, and Bradley thought he saw something in Colin’s eyes, that same thing Bradley put into Arthur’s eyes whenever Merlin cast magic under his nose, the pause of exasperation and suppression, the deliberate decision to refrain from speaking what should have been spoken years ago. He broke the moment before he said something he could never take back.

“You should be glad it’s me. Katie and Angel would never stand for sleeping on the ground like this.”

Colin laughed softly. Then he yawned and stretched. “How do we know, exactly, when our watch shift is up?”

Bradley glanced toward the knights. “Er...good question.”

* * *

When they stepped into the hotel, with its richly carpeted floors and brightly-colored walls, they realized that it was much larger than they’d previously thought, and they had no clue how to figure out which room was theirs. Arthur patted down his clothes and almost patted down Merlin’s too. He looked offended when Merlin swatted his hands aside.

“I’m not a child,” Merlin said. He thrust Bradley’s bag at Arthur and then searched through Colin’s. He came up with a slim, smooth, shiny white device with thin white cords dangling from it, and he found a fold of brown leather and a book, but no key.

“I don’t have a key either,” Arthur said. “We’ll have to ask the innkeeper if we left our keys with him. That way we can find out which room is ours.” He scanned the hallways, and they both listened, heard a man say, “Royal Oak Inn. How may I help you?”

“The innkeeper’s that way.” Arthur caught Merlin by the shoulders and steered him in the direction of the man’s voice. “Go ask him for Bradley and Colin’s key.”

Merlin shook his head. “I shouldn’t. I don’t sound like Colin. Colin sounds like something else, and they’ll be suspicious if I sound like me. Bradley sounds like Arthur, though. You should go ask.” In the background, the man was still talking, though Merlin didn’t hear anyone reply.

“I should stay behind, watch your back,” Arthur said. “I have the sword. Now go! If they ask why you sound funny, say that you...have to run lines.”

Merlin arched an eyebrow, dubious.

“Trust me,” Arthur said.

“I hate it when you say that,” Merlin muttered, and he started down the hall in the direction of the innkeeper’s voice, alarmed by how soft his footfalls were with the carpeting. Anyone, even the most bumbling of assassins, could sneak through the halls. Would Arthur be safe here?

He rounded the corner and stared at the madman who was leaning on a high desk and talking to himself while he had a white, shiny, brick-like thing pressed to his ear. The man glanced up and smiled at Merlin, the expression friendly and familiar, and held up one finger in the universal gesture to wait a minute.

Merlin bobbed his head politely and listened to the man’s one-sided conversation.

“Yeah, yeah...three days, two nights, can do. Reservation for two, last name Llewellyn, single room, queen bed, non-smoking. Thank you for calling the Royal Oak Inn.” The man set the white device down and looked up. “Hello, Colin. You’re back early. I think if you pop round the pub, Mrs. Harris has some vegetarian lasagne on special tonight. Where’s Bradley?”

Merlin, too nervous and confused to speak, jerked a thumb over his shoulder in Arthur’s general direction. The man certainly sounded sane, but some insane people seemed normal until people least expected it, didn’t they?

“Right, would he like his key as well?” the man asked.

Merlin nodded. The man grinned and said, “Catch!” and two shiny keys with green-and-gold toggles came flying through the air. Merlin’s first instinct was to duck, because he’d spent years dodging Arthur’s belongings, but the keys weren’t coming at his head, so he reached out and caught them.

“Thanks,” he said as quietly as possible.

The man waved, and then a shrill ringing noise pierced the air. Merlin jumped. The man, unbothered, picked up the white device and said,

“Royal Oak Inn, how may I help you?”

Merlin spun around and hurried back down the hall to Arthur.

“Did you get the keys?” Arthur asked.

Merlin nodded and held them out. “Yes. The innkeeper recognized me and just gave them to me.”

Arthur inspected his key, turned the toggle over. “My key is to room number twenty-five. What’s yours?”

“Twenty-three. We’re close to each other, then. And we have separate rooms,” Merlin said. Something occurred to him, and he grinned. “In this world, I don’t think Colin is Bradley’s servant. You’ll have to be a bit nicer to me if you don’t want anyone suspecting anything.”

“On the contrary,” Arthur said, shoving Bradley’s bag at him, “everyone seems to think my treatment of you is quite typical, even funny. Now come on – I found the stairs. This way.”

Merlin fumbled Bradley’s bag but didn’t drop it, and then followed Arthur. Their rooms were right next to each other. When Arthur opened room twenty-five, it was spotlessly neat, whereas room twenty-three had piles of clutter – clothes, mostly – all over the tables and chairs.

“I expect it’s quite obvious whose room is whose,” Arthur said, stepping into his room.

“Yeah,” Merlin said, “the messy one is yours, because clearly Bradley doesn’t know how to pick up after himself.” He pushed past Arthur into the room and surveyed it. He found a yellow pouch of parchment on the bed and picked it up. “See? It says ‘Colin Morgan’. So obviously this room is mine.”

Arthur arched an eyebrow and stepped around Merlin, crossed to the wall opposite the bed and pulled open a door. “The rooms adjoin, so they’re basically one room. And the entirety of the two rooms combined is quite clearly Bradley’s.”

Merlin prowled through the doorway into the other room and closed the door that led into the hallway. He inspected one pile of clothes, and they were too big for him, so the messy room was definitely Bradley’s.

“Whatever. You have Bradley’s room, and I have Colin’s.” Merlin crossed his arms. “What now?”

“We plan,” Arthur said.

Merlin nodded. “All right. What’s the plan?”

“Give me a moment.” Arthur rolled his eyes. Then he crossed his arms over his chest and crossed the room to stare out the window. “Obviously we need to eat, and we need to find out where Tony’s room is, because it sounds like the others expect to see us there. We need to find a library, or a physician – like Gaius. Someone who will have an answer.”

Merlin heard Arthur’s voice catch on ‘Tony’, and sympathy curled in his chest. “All right. Sounds like a good plan.”

Arthur sighed. “I don’t need your affirmation about whether or not it’s a good plan – it’s a plan, and I’m making it. You stay here while I sort out about a physician and Tony. Go – sit on Colin’s bed and don’t make a mess. Or you could tidy Bradley’s room. If I’m not back in half an hour, run for the forest. Understood?”

Merlin nodded, but he wasn’t sure that he knew where the forest was or if he’d be able to get there, not without another van. Arthur started for the door.

“I think maybe you should leave your sword,” Merlin said.

Arthur paused. “Why?”

“Haven’t you noticed? No other men are carrying them. And if you want information, you might not want to look quite so...threatening.”

Arthur conceded the sense in this and lay his sword reverently on Bradley’s bed.

“Stay here,” he said again, and he left.

Merlin watched him go, then turned to stare out the window into the courtyard below the hotel. He wasn’t so sure that any physician would know how to handle a magical attack, not in a world where there was no more magic.

He lifted a hand and breathed softly into his palm, “ _Forbaerne_.”

A tiny flame sputtered to life, and relief washed over him. Even if no one else had magic, he did, and he would do whatever he had to to keep Arthur safe.

Merlin extinguished the flame with a thought and then surveyed Bradley’s room. Bradley was even messier than Arthur, and Merlin didn’t feel like cleaning, so he went back into Colin’s room, and sat down on the bed. The mattress was even softer than Arthur’s, and Merlin flung himself backward, luxuriated in the wonder of it. He closed his eyes and sighed happily, finally able to find a moment’s respite in the midst of all this madness. Outside the window, the sunlight was fading.

Merlin sat up and looked around, but there were no candles, and the room was becoming dark. When he glanced out the window, he saw light was shining out of the windows in the nearby buildings, so obviously these people didn’t just loll about in the dark when the sun went down. Merlin heaved himself up and explored, poking and prodding at the tables and chairs, checking in the wardrobe for candles, but there were none, and there were no magic torches either. The room was getting distressingly dark, and fast. Merlin sighed and slumped against the wall, frustrated, and yelped when something dug into his spine. He spun around and saw something small and smooth poking out of the wall. He flicked it, annoyed – and light burst on overhead.

Merlin stared, awed. It was just like the magic torches from the cave, steady and without the flicker of flames. Then he reached out and flicked the little nub again and the light went out. He flicked it a third time, and the light came back on. It seemed like magic, but it wasn’t – Merlin could feel it. The little button controlled the light. Gaius would have been fascinated.

Merlin left the light on and plopped back down on Colin’s bed. He spotted the yellow parchment pouch and picked it up. Colin Morgan, it read. So his name was Colin and his family’s name was Morgan. Almost like Morgana. Was Colin related to Morgana, somehow? They had similar coloring, all pale skin and dark hair and the like, as did Mordred and Nimueh. Was it a magic thing? Only Alvarr and Morgause were blonde...

Merlin turned the pouch around and saw that it was open at one end, and it had a bundle of parchment inside, like the kind Jeremy had, so Merlin tipped it out.

It read on the front, _Merlin, Series Four, Episode One_.

Merlin stared at his own name, puzzled.

He flipped past the first page and began to read. Confusion spun through him. This had to be sorcery of some sort, because someone had written down his life to the tiniest detail. It was all on the pages – his conversations with Gaius and Gwen, with Gwaine and Elyan, what he did when he was mucking out Arthur’s stables. Someone knew of the quest for the Shield of the Blood Guard. Someone spied – scryed? – and had seen Uther’s orders to Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table. But then there was a conversation between Arthur and Gwen that Merlin hadn’t known they’d had before they’d all ridden out. The story was written oddly, without a noticeable narrator, but whoever had written the story knew Merlin had magic.

His heart crawled into his throat, and he skimmed forward a few more pages. No. He couldn’t let Arthur see this, couldn’t let him know. He had to tell Arthur himself, and soon, before someone let slip, but they had to figure out how to get home first. Merlin scanned the pages desperately, trying to find any sign of Katie or Angel or Tony knowing. Jeremy had had one of these books – he must have known. Did anyone else?

And then Merlin saw, halfway through the book, handwritten across the top of one of the pages, _The Big Reveal_.

Merlin scanned down the page, past mentions of Druids and Gaius and the shield, and then he saw it, the start of a conversation between Arthur and Merlin, one highlighted and with notes scribbled in the margins in two different hands. Some notes had arrows pointing to the others with comments like, _maybe soften it up here?_ and _ignore Bradley, he’s being an idiot_ and _stop trying to make the fangirls coo, Colin, it’s not very professional_. Merlin read, and the more he read the higher his heart climbed in his throat. It was a confession, from Merlin to Arthur, about his magic. And somehow – somehow Arthur already knew Merlin had magic, had known it since the Great Dragon had been released, had added up the clues of not finding the Dragon’s body, seeing Merlin cry over his father, and Arthur was hurt and disappointed, but he wasn’t afraid, and he promised to keep Merlin’s secret until the time was right, and –

Merlin let the sheaf of parchment fall from his hands. His heart hammered against his ribs as he stared down at it. Then he heard footsteps in the hallway, so he scrambled to shove the book back into the pouch and then, in a fit of desperation, thrust the pouch under Colin’s pillow.

Someone knocked at the door.

“Who is it?” Merlin asked.

“It’s me,” Arthur said.

Merlin took a deep breath, and when he looked down he realized his hands were shaking. “Coming.” He scrambled off of Colin’s bed and pulled open the door.

Arthur stepped into the room and closed the door firmly behind him. “The library is closed for the night, but the innkeeper gave me directions. Also the doctor’s office is closed for the night, but if we have an emergency we can go to A&E, which sounds complicated and not quite like what we’re looking for. So tonight we have to lay low and play along being Bradley and Colin and tomorrow we can see about getting that shield and finding our way home.”

“Okay,” Merlin said. His stomach chose that moment to rumble again.

Arthur sighed. “For heaven’s sake, Merlin, you sound like I’m starving you.”

“I haven’t eaten since breakfast,” Merlin protested. “Let’s go get some food.” Anything to get Arthur out of the room before he found that book.

“Fine. I know where to go. I asked the innkeeper about that as well.” Arthur headed for the door, and Merlin followed him.

Out on the streets, Merlin walked half a step behind Arthur like an obedient servant, which was possibly the first time in history he’d ever done it. He was nervous about what he’d read, too nervous, and he knew it, but he was pretty sure that he wasn’t imagining people looking at him and Arthur was they walked. Arthur didn’t notice at all, because he was the prince, and people looked at him wherever he went, but Merlin was quite sure people were looking at _him_ and smiling, and one person even waved.

Thankfully, it wasn’t a long walk from the hotel to a tavern called The Rose and Crown. Arthur pushed open the door, and a plump, grandmotherly woman said,

“Bradley, Colin, so lovely to see you. I take it you’ll be having the usual, then?”

“Yes,” Arthur said boldly, and then he cast a bewildered look at Merlin over his shoulder before following the woman through the crowded pub. She seated them at a secluded table in a back corner and set down cups made of glass that were full of clear, clean water.

“I’ll let the cook know you’re here,” she said, “and I’ll be back with tea for the both of you.” She beamed at Merlin and bustled away.

“It’s a good thing Bradley and Colin are so popular,” Arthur said. “Saves us a lot of pretending.”

“They seem to get told what to do a lot of the time,” Merlin pointed out. “Lucky for us – we just have to obey.”

Judging by the smells and the sights of the plates at other tables, food here wasn’t so different from back home. Merlin recognized meat, potatoes, and vegetables, and some of the smells were strange and spicy, but most of them smelled familiar and divine, and his stomach rumbled again in response.

The woman returned a few minutes later with two mugs of tea and a basket of bread rolls, and Merlin barely managed to hold himself in check long enough for Arthur to have first pick before he tore in.

“Mer – _Colin_ ,” Arthur said sharply. “Mind your manners.”

But the woman just laughed. “Poor skinny thing. You must be hungry after working hard all day. Food will be out in fifteen minutes or so, boys,” she said, and turned to see to the nearby tables.

Merlin nodded gratefully and bit into another roll. It was warm and freshly baked and so, so good on his tongue. He closed his eyes and moaned happily. Arthur made a low noise of disapproval and picked his bread apart delicately, eating small pieces by hand.

“It’s a good thing I never made you a knight,” Arthur said in a low voice. “Your table manners are atrocious.”

“Don’t want to be a knight,” Merlin said. “Food is meant to be enjoyed. And knights are thick.”

“I’m a knight,” Arthur said flatly.

They’d had this conversation before, so Merlin just grinned instead of offering up a saucy retort.

Arthur brushed the breadcrumbs off his fingertips. “Let’s review what we know of our situation so far. We were in the cave searching for the shield, and there was an explosion of light, and then we ended up here, wherever here may be, where people look like us and sound like us but everyone uses magic.”

“In the cave,” Merlin said, “we must have set off some sort of magical trap left to guard the shield. That must be how we’re here.” He chewed another mouthful of bread, thinking slowly. “Arthur, if we’re here, does that mean Bradley and Colin are there? Our home?”

Arthur’s eyes darkened. “Perhaps.”

“It’d make some sense if we’d swapped places,” Merlin said, warming to the subject. “Surely they’re just as smart as we are and will play along until they know how to get home.”

Arthur’s jaw tightened. “What if they did this deliberately?”

“What do you mean?”

Arthur cast a glance at their surroundings. “Don’t you see? Everyone and everything here is magic. How do we know Bradley and Colin didn’t do this deliberately, as some sort of magical vendetta against Camelot?”

Merlin felt his palms begin to sweat. “That’s not what I meant. I just thought – they might be in danger too.”

“They will be, as soon as they use magic in front of anyone in Camelot,” Arthur said, and his expression was grim, hard.

Merlin’s eyes went wide. “What if they get killed?”

“They’re sorcerers,” Arthur said.

“But Arthur – what if we die too, if we’re somehow connected?” Merlin asked.

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut and reached up, pinched the bridge of his nose. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Then we really, really need to get home and stop whatever they’re planning,” Merlin said. Then he glanced around the tavern, at the people eating and drinking and talking, laughing. “Only...maybe they’re not evil sorcerers.”

Arthur’s eyebrows snapped together. “What are you saying?”

“Look around us,” Merlin said. “If everyone here has magic...they’re not using it much, are they? Nothing’s enchanted. They’re eating and drinking, same as normal people.”

“Magic corrupts,” Arthur said, but he didn’t sound as sure as he usually did, and his gaze was fixed on a nearby table where a little golden-haired toddler girl was giggling as her mother tried to feed her.

Merlin knew Arthur’s fears about Bradley and Colin were unfounded, that probably none of the people in this room had magic, or if they did, they didn’t have much. For one moment, Merlin wished that everyone in the room did have magic, if only so Arthur could understand that magic was like any power, and it could only corrupt if the wielder let it.

“We should stick to the plan we have,” Merlin said. “Eat, then go visit Tony and the others.”

“Tony,” Arthur agreed quietly. He was still looking at the little girl. She noticed him and her face lit up, and she waved. Arthur blinked, startled, but his expression softened, and to Merlin’s surprise Arthur waved back. The girl’s mother looked up, and she smiled at Arthur as well.

The hostess woman returned then with two plates of food. She set one down in front of Arthur – steak and potatoes and carrots. The other she set in front of Merlin, and he stared down at the bed of leafy greens in faint dismay. Where was his steak and potatoes? Merlin knew a salad when he saw one, and this one didn’t even have cheese on the side.

“Thank you,” Arthur said to the woman, and Merlin echoed the sentiment faintly. He prodded the salad with his fork, but it was all leaves and beans and mushrooms. There wasn’t even any cheese.

“This is what Colin usually eats?” Merlin said in a small voice.

“Apparently Colin has appalling taste in food,” Arthur said and tucked into Bradley’s food with gusto.

Merlin sighed and began eating slowly. Growing up in Ealdor he’d learnt to never skip a meal if he didn’t have to, but apparently eating at Gaius’s table had spoilt him some.

They talked quietly of the quest for the shield, of how the other knights were likely faring. Arthur was sure they were fine. Merlin was sure Gwaine had said something to upset Leon by now and brawling had broken out, which Arthur said was preposterous, because Leon was noble and had self-control. At that, Merlin pointed out that if nobles had self-control, he wouldn’t be dodging Arthur’s flying boots every morning. The banter was enough to keep them light-hearted, to stave off Arthur’s paranoia as he watched the table around them, to suppress Merlin’s terror at the thought of The Big Reveal and what would happen if Arthur read it.

The grandmotherly woman reappeared and placed a piece of paper on the table.

“Here’s your check, lads. Have a good night.”

“Check?” Merlin echoed, and as one he and Arthur realized. Money. Neither of them had brought any. He shot Arthur a panicked look.

Arthur shot him one in return, but because he was the prince, his expression was much more restrained.

“Forgive me, my lady,” Arthur said in a low voice, “back in the hotel –” He always carried a small stash of gold coins on him in case of emergencies. Surely he hadn’t lost it in the cave.

An embarrassed flush crept up Arthur’s neck, and Merlin was sorely, sorely tempted to conjure up some coins, but the woman laughed and patted his hand.

“You left your wallet. I understand. I’ll just put it on your tab, shall I?”

Merlin had no idea what that meant, but Arthur nodded slowly.

“Thank you very much.”

“No worries, luv. You both look knackered. Go back to the hotel and have a good night’s rest, and tomorrow you can get back to entertaining the world,” the woman said. She picked up the piece of paper and walked away.

“We should go,” Arthur said quickly, “before she changes her mind.” He looked distressed at the thought of being dishonest. “Surely Bradley and Colin have money back at the hotel. How else would they pay for their lodgings? But we should...go. For now.”

Merlin nodded, and together they ducked out of the tavern.

“So...what now?” Merlin asked as they headed through the shadows. _Please_ , he begged silently, _don’t say ‘running lines’_.

“I found out where Tony’s room is, so we should probably put in an appearance there,” Arthur said. He led Merlin up the stairs. “This way.”

Merlin wondered how he would deal with a man who had Uther Pendragon’s face but none of his hatred for magic.

Morgana’s voice – Katie’s voice – rang out.

“There you are! I was about to come looking for you.”

Arthur gazed at her for a long moment, and Merlin realized today was the first time he had seen her face since she’d tried to usurp Uther’s throne. She wasn’t Morgana, not really, but they looked identical, and sometimes they had the same facial expressions, and Merlin couldn’t help but curl his hand into a fist, ready with a fireball.

“We got distracted by card games earlier, but Tony’s finally breaking out his guitar,” Katie said. “You two have perfect timing.” She beckoned them in.

Merlin and Arthur exchanged looks, and then they followed.

Tony’s room was the same as Colin and Bradley’s, although neater. Angel was curled up in one of the chairs and sipping what looked like wine from one of those goblets made of glass. Katie sat down in one of the other chairs, which left Merlin and Arthur the floor. Tony was sitting on the bed with what looked like a mandolin across his knees, and he was tuning it idly. Playing cards were scattered across the carpet. Arthur remained standing next to the door, so Merlin stayed beside him.

Angel looked up and flashed them both a brilliant grin. Merlin heard Arthur’s breath hitch, and then Angel said, “Go on, sit somewhere. You can sit on the bed, you know – Tony doesn’t bite. We’re all friends here.”

Katie poured herself a cup of wine and sprawled back in her chair, and Merlin knew she definitely wasn’t Morgana, because Morgana had perfect posture at all times, and Katie looked...rougher around the edges, but somehow less dangerous. “Why are you two looming, anyway? Bradley, you look like Arthur about to face an uncomfortable counsel session with Uther, and Colin, you’re just enabling him, hovering all Merlin-like like that.”

“It’s probably Colin’s fault,” Angel said. “They’ve probably been running lines this entire time. It’s all work, work, work when Colin’s around. Good thing, though, or else Bradley would never get anything done.”

Merlin glanced at Arthur, ready to take his cue, and then Arthur stepped away from the door, picked his way across the room. He perched tentatively on the corner of the bed as far away from Tony as possible. Merlin had no choice but to follow and ended up sitting behind Arthur, upper body twisted uncomfortably so he could see Tony.

Katie giggled into her cup. “Oh, no, Tony, I think the sight of you with a guitar has done it – Bradley’s gone into Buffy fangirl mode.”

Merlin suspected that comment was an insult, but Arthur didn’t seem to notice it. He was looking at Tony with an unreadable emotion in his eyes.

“Bradley’s always been sensible about me,” Tony said, and he smiled kindly at Arthur. “You look a bit peaked. Have you been drinking milk now that they’ve put a fridge in the craft services van? I’ve told you, milk’s not that good for you.”

“No,” Arthur said quietly, “I haven’t had milk in a while.”

“Ah. So you do occasionally listen to this old man,” Tony said. He nodded at Katie and Angel. “Since they’re not much in the way of Buffy, I thought maybe I’d start with an old classic, with The Who.”

“The Who?” Arthur echoed; he sounded as puzzled as Merlin felt.

Angel hoisted her cup over her head and waved it back and forth with a cry of “Freebird!”

Katie snorted and almost choked on her drink, and Merlin realized that they must have been drinking for a while and were all mildly intoxicated. Maybe that explained the soft look in Tony’s eyes, because it was almost impossible to look at him and not think of Uther. Merlin wondered what Arthur was thinking, especially when he saw Arthur cast another glance in Angel’s direction.

Tony began to strum, and Merlin leaned in, intrigued. Even though minstrels were common enough fare at court, they’d been rare in Ealdor – usually because no one could afford to pay them, and the only music Merlin had grown up with had been his mother singing him lullabies and the bawdy songs the men would share around a fire after a good day’s hunt. Tony was skilled, his fingers deft and sure on the strings. He began to sing.

“ _No one knows what it’s like to be the bad man  
To be the sad man  
Behind blue eyes_.”

“You’ve got beautiful blue eyes, Bradley!” Angel cried and drained a mouthful from her cup.

“Sorry, Bradley, Colin’s eyes are prettier and bluer,” Katie said, and she winked at Merlin.

Tony smiled, amused, and kept singing.

“ _No one knows what it’s like to be hated  
To be fated  
Telling only lies..._”

Merlin felt his chest tighten. He did know what it was like. It was like a punch to gut when, after the encounter with Morgause, Arthur said, _It is once again clear to me that those who practice magic are evil and dangerous_. And he definitely knew what it meant to be fated, to have a stupid destiny that had damned him to a lifetime of lying to those he cared about most. He looked up, and Tony caught his gaze. Merlin felt his breath stop in his throat, but Tony was looking at him, searching, and his brow furrowed at what he found. Then Tony stopped singing and concentrated on his instrument. Merlin closed his eyes and listened to the music, listened to its rise in intensity, and he couldn’t help but shiver. Beside him, he could feel the tension radiating off of Arthur in waves, as if he were getting himself ready for battle – true battle, like going to face a dragon.

The song ended, and Merlin opened his eyes. Katie and Angel applauded and cheered, and Merlin couldn’t help but join in, clapping, and Tony bowed over his instrument.

“Don’t listen to them, lads. Both of you have lovely blue eyes.”

“Thank you,” Arthur said. He lurched to his feet, and he looked pale and sick beneath his stoic court-time façade. “I’m sorry – we really must be going. We need to keep running lines.”

Katie pouted. “Are you mad? You’ve wanted Tony and a guitar to yourself for years. I know this scene is big, bigger than the duel in the throne room, but you can’t keep working yourself into a tizzy over it.”

Merlin had stood up automatically when Arthur did, but he paused, looked at Tony. If they left, would they be ruining something for Bradley?

But Tony shook his head, smiling. “For once, Bradley’s showing the initiative, and I admire his dedication to his craft. Good luck, boys – and don’t worry, we’ll do this again sometime.”

Arthur inclined his head with stiff politeness. “Thank you.” He started for the door just as Angel stood up, and they collided. Angel yelped, and Arthur tugged her against him, steadying her.

“Sorry, Bradley,” she said. “I’m a bit tipsy is all. Good reflexes, though.”

Arthur stared down at her, his eyes wide. “Of course, my lady.”

Angel laughed softly and pushed at his shoulder. “You sound just like Arthur.”

Arthur closed his eyes and swallowed hard.

Angel’s brow furrowed, and she pushed at his shoulder again. “Bradley, the crisis has been averted, no wine has been spilt. You can let me go now.”

Arthur’s eyes flew open, and he stepped back quickly. “Of course.” He flicked a dark glance over his shoulder and Merlin and pulled open the door. “Come.”

“Stop treating Colin like he’s a dog,” Katie said, but she sounded amused. She smiled up at Merlin. “You can stay with us if you like, let him run lines by himself. He’s being a prat.”

For one moment, Merlin was tempted, but then he remembered that running lines meant looking in that book.

“No,” he said quietly, “I’d better go with him.” And he fled.

Out in the hallway, Arthur was leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, his posture small and defensive.

“Are you all right?” Merlin asked quietly.

“What is this world?” Arthur asked. “How can they look so like us and yet not be us?”

“I don’t know,” Merlin said.

Arthur straightened up. “It’s magic. Some kind of evil magic, designed to drive us mad.”

Merlin swallowed hard. He was fated, telling only lies. “Arthur –”

“We should run some lines tomorrow, so that we can get done with whatever Jeremy wants and find our way home.” Arthur headed back to Bradley and Colin’s rooms, and Merlin couldn’t do anything but follow.


	4. Chapter 4

Bradley had been, he thought, justifiably nervous about being on Arthur’s mount alone, but it was more obedient and less hyper than Bradley’s horse, so the morning ride went smoothly. Colin, of course, was getting along swimmingly on Merlin’s little mare, and he was even making friends with Percival to boot. Something about Colin screamed vulnerability, and people responded to it without realizing it. The costume mistresses were always bringing him cups of tea on cold days and bottles of water on hot days, and during big battle sequences even Andreas fussed over him. Bradley found it exasperating, as Colin was a grown man and quite competent at fending for himself. Colin was too polite to turn away the attention, because it was meant with good intentions, but Bradley knew he was annoyed with it sometimes too. Of course, that vulnerability he carried with him made Merlin adorable to girls and gay men everywhere, and Colin was a skilled actor – he used it well, making Merlin likable but not pathetically weak. Naturally, then, Colin was drawing Percival into easy conversation while Bradley rode at the head of the party with Leon and Lancelot flanking him. Bradley couldn’t begin to think of what to say that wouldn’t give the game away completely, so he just guided his horse in the direction of the magic he was feeling.

In reality, Bradley had absolutely no clue where Ascetir was, and he supposed he could have asked Leon to lead the way, played up the headache some more, but he knew that Arthur was very concerned with being able to lead his men and inspire confidence in them, and being down with a headache for two days wasn’t very inspiring. That being the case, riding along in awkward silence was getting boring, and quite quickly. In all the books Bradley had read as a child and in all the films he’d seen, no one seemed to properly emphasize the long stretches of boring riding through forests that made up an inordinate amount of questing.

Bradley poked about in his memory for something to say to Leon and finally settled on, “So Gwen’s mother was a maid in your mother’s household and you two grew up together. What was she like?”

It seemed innocuous enough, but then Bradley felt that prickle between his shoulder blades, the one that meant someone was staring at him, and he wanted to kick himself for mentioning Gwen in front of Lancelot.

“Gwen or her mother?” Leon asked.

“Both, I suppose,” Bradley said.

“Gwen is much like her mother,” Leon said. “Kind, thoughtful, helpful, and very sweet, and sometimes prone to tripping over her own tongue.”

Bradley laughed. “I always thought that was one of Gwen’s more endearing traits – her honesty.”

Leon nodded. “Indeed. Her mother was very forthright. When I was a boy, she often told me things I needed to hear, things that others would not have said because of my rank in the household.”

“At times she does have a certain disregard for rank, but not as much as Merlin,” Bradley said. “I suppose, in Merlin’s defense, since he hails from such a small town and likely didn’t deal with noblemen on a regular basis he has some sort of excuse but...did you know, one time Gwen told me I snore like a pig.”

Leon started to laugh and attempted to cover it with a cough. “She didn’t.”

“She did.” Bradley wracked his brains, trying to remember the lines exactly. “She said to me, ‘The first night you were here, I thought a pig had got into the house’, and then I said, ‘So now I’m a pig’, and she said, ‘I just meant you _sound_ like a pig.’”

This time Leon couldn’t help but laugh, and Bradley sighed with an air of long-suffering.

“I understand. Gwen is very funny, even when she doesn’t try to be,” he said.

“She’s right though, Sire,” Leon said. “You do snore.”

“I do not,” Bradley said, genuinely indignant. Maybe Arthur’s character snored, but Bradley had good assurance that he didn’t.

“Last night you didn’t,” Leon agreed, “but often you do.”

“Well...if it gets annoying, just poke me and roll me onto my side,” Bradley said.

Leon blinked. “Of course, Sire.”

Bradley winced. He’d gone a little too out-of-character then. He attempted to cover up with, “Even if you don’t, Merlin probably would.”

Lancelot said, “On what occasion did Gwen have to hear you snore?”

Drat. Bradley had walked right into that one. He darted a guilty glance at Leon. “Er...do you remember that tournament? The one I missed? While the assassin Myror was in Camelot?”

“Indeed I do,” Leon said. “Sir William was an exceptionally fine jouster. I’m surprised you didn’t make him one of the Knights of the Round Table. I haven’t seen him in the lists at tournaments since then, now that you mention it.”

Bradley felt his palms begin to sweat. He cast a glance over his shoulder at Colin, but Colin was laughing with Elyan and Gwaine while Percival looked on in quiet amusement. Bradley forced himself to take a deep breath.

“I didn’t actually miss the tournament,” Bradley said.

Leon frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean Merlin found a farmer from an outlying village and we dressed him up as a knight and Merlin forged him a seal of nobility, but during the tournament I was the one who jousted,” Bradley said. “As Sir William.”

Leon blinked, and his expression turned guarded. “You mean to say –”

“That you tilted at me full force? Yes,” Bradley said.

“Then Sir William –”

“Went home with enough money to feed his village for a year,” Bradley said.

“How is that possible?” Leon asked.

Bradley glanced at Lancelot. “It’s not as if Merlin has never forged a seal of nobility before.”

Lancelot lowered his gaze. “Sire –”

“Relax,” Bradley said. “I know he did it with good intentions. And he was right – you are one of the noblest men I know, despite the rank at which you were born.”

“But you were off in the north hunting a magical creature.” Leon still looked poleaxed. “And you killed the assassin Myror on your way back.”

“I did kill Myror and I was injured, that much is true,” Bradley said.

Lancelot asked, “What does this have to do with Gwen?”

“She was kind enough to let me hide at her house during the tournament,” Bradley said.

Leon raised an eyebrow, but he said nothing. Lancelot’s expression turned shuttered.

Bugger it all. Bradley kept saying the wrong thing. “Look, it was a favor from a friend, and absolutely nothing happened.” He very carefully did not mention the kiss. “After all, I snored like a pig every night. Last I checked, men who snore like pigs rarely get the opportunity to outrage the castle maids.”

Lancelot and Leon both pinned him with looks, and Bradley sent a silent plea for help out to the universe.

The universe replied with a sudden thrum from the Tapestry, and Bradley knew, the way he would sometimes know back home that a strong Mage was nearby, that they had reached the Ridge of Ascetir. He tugged on the reins of Arthur’s horse and brought it to a stop.

“Leon, Lancelot, scout ahead and tell me what you see,” he said.

They both cast him inscrutable looks, but then they nodded deferentially and went to obey.

Colin drew his horse up alongside Bradley. “What’s going on?”

“This is Ascetir,” Bradley said.

“How do you know?”

“Doesn’t it look familiar?” Bradley asked, buying time to think up a good answer, but once he looked properly himself, it was true – he had seen this place before, and it was just like it looked in production shots.

“Huhn,” Colin said, “you’re pretty good at this boy scout thing, aren’t you? What with that candle in the cave and roaming massive, unknown forests.”

“Leon also knows the way,” Bradley said, which was true but not an answer to Colin’s question. How many times had Merlin said the same things to Arthur? _Those were Morgause’s words_ was not the same as _Morgause was lying_.

“It is the Ridge of Ascetir,” Leon said, “but we didn’t see signs of anyone. Or anything.”

“Why would the Druids stay here after you routed them for kidnapping Morgana?” Lancelot asked.

“Who knows,” Bradley said. “They were still there when we came for the Cup.” He dismounted and drew his sword, which was futile, because it was a dull stunt sword and not even the proper weight. How none of the knights had noticed was evidence of human psychology, that people saw what they wanted to see, and they wanted to see Prince Arthur whenever they looked at Bradley, so see Prince Arthur they did.

“Merlin, stay here,” Bradley said. He thought quickly. He knew where the Druids were, could sense the direction of their camp and everything, could sense it more strongly than he’d ever sensed magic before. If he’d hailed from a different cabal, he might have let himself become drunk on the sensation of magic. “Gwaine, Elyan, with me.”

The three of them crept through the trees in the direction of the magic. Bradley closed his eyes and reached out, felt for the magic. And then he knew what he had to do. He’d seen Merlin do it in series two, thought it hadn’t been well-executed, given Merlin’s actual intelligence and his power level. Hundred of times Bradley had mused on Merlin’s magic, how – if he’d had the power – he would have done something better, and now was his chance.

He fell back behind Elyan and Gwaine, let them take the lead, and he tugged Arthur’s glove off with his teeth. Then he turned Arthur’s ring round, focusing, and then – victory. The faint smell of smoke in the distance.

All three of them broke through the tree cover at the top of the ridge together and there, precisely in the direction of the Druid camp, was the faintest curl of smoke, as if from a campfire. Bradley suspected the Druids were panicking right then and fighting to get the fire put out.

“A cooking fire,” Gwaine said. “That must be them.”

“I’ll summon the others,” Elyan said, and he ducked back through the trees.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come, Arthur?” Gwaine asked.

“I’m sure,” Arthur said. “Even if the Druids who remember I helped save Mordred are still alive and in the camp, they’ll be vastly outnumbered by those who see me only as Uther Pendragon’s son.”

Gwaine studied him for a long moment. “Merlin’s right, you know.”

“Right about what? He’s not right about things often,” Bradley said, which was very much something Arthur would say but that Bradley felt like a prat for saying.

“He’s right about things more than you think,” Gwaine said, “and as much as I don’t like to say it, you actually are a brilliant man, and one day you’ll make a great king.”

Bradley glanced over his shoulder. “Well, Merlin is a brave man, for staying by my side and helping me defend Camelot. Did you know, he and Leon are the only ones who survived the final battle with the Great Dragon?”

“I didn’t know that,” Gwaine said, and he looked surprised.

Lancelot and Leon reappeared, and Leon pointed out the smoke from the alleged cooking fire.

“Odd,” Lancelot said. “I didn’t see that there before. It must have started after we reported to Arthur.” He glanced over his shoulder, and Bradley knew he was assuming Merlin had left the clue.

Bradley supposed he was long overdue for a true Merlin moment, for doing something useful with magic and then letting someone else take the credit.

“Good luck,” Arthur said. “And be careful.”

Leon hefted the shield. “We will, Sire.” And the three men started down the ridge.

Bradley watched them go until they’d vanished into the trees, and then he returned to the others. Percival had already taken care of the horses, ensuring they were all tethered near a good patch of grazing, and Colin was helping Elyan drag some logs close for seating.

“What else do you need us to do, Sire?” Elyan asked.

Bradley really, really wanted to change his clothes and take a bath and also shave, but he knew he needed to keep his armor on in case of an emergency. Not that his armor would do any good in an actual battle.

“There’s nothing we can do now but wait.”

Elyan nodded. He stood up, drew his sword. “Percival, the other day at training you learned that disarm from Gwaine. Teach it to me?”

Percival nodded and went to fetch his sword, and the two of them began clearing a space to spar. Bradley sat down beside Colin on one of the logs.

“How’s your hand doing?” he asked.

Colin had changed the bandage before they set out; he glanced down and checked it. “It’s all right, I suppose. So...what are we going to do?”

“Who knows,” Bradley said. He drummed his hands on his thighs.

Colin thought for a long moment, then handed him a knife and a stick. “Make some skewers for supper.”

“I wasn’t actually a boy scout, you know,” Bradley said.

Colin raised an eyebrow. “You’ve never sharpened a pencil with a knife before?”

“I don’t know about Ireland, but where I went to school, we had these wonderful devices call pencil sharpeners,” Bradley said.

Colin bumped Bradley’s shoulder with his. “Shut up and start sharpening. You can use Percival’s knife. Elyan lent me his.”

“Fine,” Bradley muttered. “Just so you know, Arthur wouldn’t do this.”

“I bet Merlin could convince him.” Colin grinned cheekily.

As it turned out, sharpening a stick into a skewer was a bit like peeling a potato. As long as Bradley cut away from himself, he did fine. As he worked, he began to sing quietly to himself, absorbed in his task.

“ _We have the chance to turn the pages over.  
We can write what we wanna write.  
We’ve gotta make ends meet before we get much older._”

Beside him, Colin picked up the tune.

“ _We’re all someone’s daughter,  
We’re all someone’s son.  
How long can we look at each other  
Down the barrel of a gun?_”

When the chorus hit, it was like every other time they’d been bored between takes on set. Bradley sang words he knew by heart, words that were an anthem to friendship and laughter, camaraderie at the end of a long day, and Colin was right there with him.

“ _You’re the voice!  
Try and understand it.  
Make it noise and make it clear!  
Whoa..._”

“Sire?” Elyan asked, and Bradley shut his mouth so fast his teeth clicked.

Colin clapped his hand over his mouth, eyes wide with _What did we just do_?

“You have a lovely singing voice, Sire,” Percival said. He cocked his head to the side curiously “I’ve never heard that song before.”

Bradley swallowed hard. “Right. Of course. I just –”

Elyan looked extremely amused. “Gwen never mentioned that you sing.”

“It’s a campfire song,” Bradley said, thinking feverishly. He really should have tried harder at improv at school. Then inspiration struck. “Merlin taught it to me.” And he clapped Colin on the back.

Colin’s head came up sharply, and he shot Bradley a horrified look.

Elyan plopped down on the log beside them. “Teach it to us, Merlin. It’s got to be better than Percival trying to take my head off with a sword.”

“You asked me to teach you,” Percival said patiently. “Practice makes perfect.” But he sheathed his sword and sat down as well.

“It’s really not much of a song,” Colin said. “Besides, shouldn’t we be talking about how best to defend the castle when Morgana and Morgause come calling?”

Elyan went to rib Colin some more, but he paused and looked at Bradley, as did Percival.

Bradley took a deep breath. He’d never really appreciated the pressure Arthur was under all the time to be the heir to the throne of Camelot. He’d been pretending for less than a day and already he wanted to find a peasant to take his place or run off somewhere and settle down with a pretty girl and be a farmer. “Of course,” he said. He picked up the stick he’d been sharpening and used it to draw in the dirt. “This is what Gwaine’s come up with so far, and it’s a solid plan, but I’m open to suggestions.”

Sketching out a diagram of the castle (the layout of which Bradley had learned from one afternoon of hassling the art direction team) and drawing in Gwaine’s fortifications helped cement the plan in Bradley’s mind. As he puzzled through it, he could see that it was an effective if inelegant strategy.

Colin pointed out that Morgana knew of certain tunnels from the time she helped Mordred escape, and Percival recommended a contingent of men to watch the entire lower level where most of the tunnels led into the castle so that the men weren’t spread too thin patrolling the entire network of tunnels.

“The biggest problem is going to be the magic,” Elyan said. “Weapons can do nothing against magic.”

Bradley nodded. The truth of the matter was, magic was based on knowledge and force of will. If someone had sufficient knowledge and willpower – and a decent dose of creativity – she could cast any kind of magic. Most people were simply restricted by their own perceptions of what was possible, and while Morgause might be a more free thinker than most when it came to magic, she hadn’t grown up with science fiction to give her a more active imagination.

“Crossbows,” Bradley said. “Instead of having a garrison of men just blocking the doorways to the tunnels, they should be hidden but in view of the door and armed with crossbows so they can shoot anyone who emerges. Morgana and Morgause won’t cast spells at people they don’t know are there.”

Colin shot him a look. “That’s actually a really good idea.”

“It’s not my first time defending a castle,” Bradley reminded him, so Colin rolled his eyes and uttered a huffy, Merlin-esque “Yes, Sire.”

“I think that’s an excellent plan,” Elyan said. “We should run it by the others when they return.”

“Hopefully with good news,” Percival added.

Elyan sat back, rested his elbows on his thighs. “So, Merlin, after all that hard work, I think you owe us a song.”

Colin’s eyes went wide. “Come now, Sir Elyan, we wouldn’t want to alert any bandits.”

“Bandits avoid the Druids, same as everyone else,” Elyan said, and Percival nodded thoughtfully, as if conceding a point well-made.

“Fine,” Colin said, and his expression turned Colin-mischievous.

Bradley felt the faintest touches of dread prickle along his nerves. What was Colin going to do?

“The chorus is the most important bit anyway,” Colin said. “What matters is the hands, though.”

“The hands?” Percival echoed.

Bradley blamed YouTube for this, he really did. “Merlin...”

Colin nodded. “I’ll teach you the words, and then you’ll see what I mean.”

That was how, when Lancelot, Leon, and Gwaine returned from the Druid encampment with the Shield of the Blood Guard, they found Elyan and Percival sitting on the log while Colin and Bradley sat on the ground cross-legged, an impromptu audience, watching the two knights completely bottle the chorus of _You’re the Voice_.

Bradley turned and saw the other three knights looking completely gobsmacked, even Leon who was a paragon of stoicism.

“What did the Druids say?” Bradley asked.

Leon gaped. Lancelot gaped.

Gwaine laughed. “You lot sound terrible.”

“It’s a campfire song,” Percival said and shrugged easily.

Bradley stood up and dusted himself off. “Since you’re not yelling for us to leap onto our horses and flee, I shall assume things went well.”

“They did, Sire,” Leon said, tearing his gaze away from Elyan, who was laughing with Colin. “They will spread the word through what independent users of the Old Religion they know.”

“Very good.” Bradley clapped Colin on the shoulder. “To Camelot we go, then.”

Percival went to fetch the horses, and Leon went to help him strap the shield onto one of them safely. Bradley heard Lancelot whisper to Elyan,

“A campfire song?”

“Merlin and Arthur taught it to us,” Elyan said, and he sounded amused.

As Bradley mounted Arthur’s horse, he felt the strange sensation of being watched again.

“Arthur?” Lancelot echoed.

“Yes,” Elyan said. “He has a fairly decent voice, actually, though Merlin’s is better.”

Bradley was eager to get back to Camelot, because it would take them that much closer to finding a way home.

“We must hurry – my father could do with some good news from his knights.” And he spurred the horse on with a quick thought of _Homeward_. The Tapestry heard him and sang in reply, and the horse burst into a gallop. After a few minutes he slowed the horse to an easier canter, and sure enough, Colin urged his horse up beside him.

“Thanks for leaving me to the wolves about that song,” he said.

Bradley sighed. “I’m sorry. I just – lost it for a bit. We were sitting there, bored, and I forgot where I was.”

“Yeah,” Colin did. “So did I. But we can’t forget again. We’re on our way to Camelot, and you’ll have to speak to the King, and then – then we have to talk to Gaius.”

“I can handle the king,” Bradley said. “And talking to Gaius will bring us one step closer to home.”

“If we can convince him Arthur and Merlin haven’t gone mad,” Colin said.

Bradley swallowed hard. Guilt churned low in his gut. “We can.”

“I hope so.” Colin turned solemn eyes on Bradley. “I don’t want to live here forever.”

Bradley thought of the pain in Lancelot’s eyes, the weight of a kingdom on Arthur’s shoulders, and he had to agree.

When the other knights caught up, Bradley pushed his horse into a gallop again, and by some miracle they made it to Camelot before midnight. Stablehands took the horses, and Colin was in character enough to remember to grab Merlin and Arthur’s saddlebags, and as one the seven of them headed to the multipurpose chamber for a late audience with the king.

“I take it you were successful?” Uther asked.

He looked exactly like Tony, but Bradley knew he wasn’t anything like the gentle, funny man who mothered Bradley about drinking too much milk and offered Colin new tofu recipes. Bradley kept himself ramrod straight, hands clasped deferentially behind his back.

“We achieved the shield, My Lord,” he said. “Sir Percival and the others were very brave.”

Uther nodded grudgingly; he still didn’t like the notion of low-born knights, but Bradley knew Arthur would praise them every chance he had, and his praise was honest. “Put the shield under lock and key, and send word out to Bayard and Odin. I leave the castle fortifications to you.”

Bradley inclined his head politely. “Of course, My Lord.”

Uther rose up, and it was strange to see him moving slowly, as if he really were an old man. He left the audience chamber under his own power, and Bradley and the others waited until he was gone before resuming conversation.

“Gwaine, Elyan, Percival, remember what we discussed. I leave it to you to assign the patrols,” Bradley said, and he felt a different kind of powerful, playing the Prince of Camelot. He turned to Lancelot and Leon. “Spread word through the lower town – have the locals keep an eye out. We need all the advance warning we can get.”

“Straight away, Sire,” Leon said, and he bowed before leaving the room.

“What do you need me to do?” Colin asked.

“We’re taking you to see Gaius,” Bradley said. “About your hand.”

Down in the physician’s quarters, Gaius stood up and folded Colin into a hug with a cry of, “Merlin! You made it back safely.”

Bradley pushed the door closed. Colin squirmed out of Gaius’s hold.

“Gaius,” Bradley said, “there’s something we must tell you.”

“Is it about Morgana, Sire?” Gaius asked.

“No,” Bradley said. “Before we tell you, we must have your word that you will not breathe a word of it to anyone outside the room. Anyone at all.”

“Of course, Sire. I am the soul of discretion,” Gaius said. He glanced at Colin, seeking some sort of clue, but Colin bit his lip and ducked his head; he looked awfully guilty.

Bradley took a deep breath. He could do this. He’d done many insane things in his time, like the time his cabal siblings bet him that he couldn’t lift one of the stones at Stonehenge during their Solstice visit. Surely telling an old man the truth, that time travel or alternate realities existed, wasn’t insane at all.

Colin beat him to it. “We’re not actually Merlin and Arthur.”

Gaius blinked. “What?”

“We know we look exactly like them, but we’re not them, and we need your help to get home,” Colin said. “It’s a scientific problem, and you’re the best scientist there is.”

Gaius narrowed his eyes. “You haven’t been on the cider again, have you?”

“No – I haven’t touched a drop,” Colin said. “You can check my breath if you like.”

“Is this some sort of trick?” Gaius demanded.

Colin cast Bradley a desperate look. “No, it’s not. You have to believe us. We’re not from here – we’re from the future, and somehow we ended up here, and we have to go back. See, if we’re here, then the real Arthur and Merlin are there, in our world, and you’ll be wanting them back, right? Because I can’t do magic, and Bradley doesn’t know how to run a kingdom.”

At _magic_ , Gaius blanched, and he cast Bradley a hunted look. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Merlin doesn’t have magic.”

Bradley sighed. “Look, you have to believe us. We’re not who you think we are.”

Gaius edged toward the door. “Whatever this is, it’s not in very good humor.”

Bradley thought quickly. “Colin, get over here and help me off with my armor.”

“What? Why?” But Colin was already unbuckling the gorge plate and pauldron while Bradley tugged off the gloves.

“Sire, are you ill?” Gaius sounded alarmed. “Perhaps you should lie down in your room –”

“I’m not Prince Arthur,” Bradley said. Colin helped him shrug out of the chainmail, and then they worked feverishly to unlace the gambeson.

Gaius was edging closer to the door, and he looked alarmed. As he passed one of the workbenches, he reached out and picked up a small paring knife. “What are you doing?”

Bradley wrenched off the linen under-tunic. “Look,” he said. “I don’t have the scar on my chest from where Prince Arthur was struck by the Questing Beast.” People might complain about the details on Merlin sometimes, like Arthur’s color-changing horse and Merlin eating a sandwich, but the makeup department always did its job right, and whenever Bradley had to take his top off, someone would paste a scar onto him.

Gaius stared. “This is sorcery –”

“We’re not wearing magical disguise crystals,” Bradley said, thumping his bare chest for emphasis. Colin tugged off his scarf and tugged open his collar to show that he, too, was not hiding any magical jewelry.

“Gaius, please, you must believe us,” Bradley said. “Arthur and Merlin are in danger, and so are we. All of us have to get home, and you’re the only one who can help us.”

“And we can’t ask the Dragon either, because I’m not a Dragonlord,” Colin added.

Gaius turned even paler.

“Please,” Bradley said, and he knew he was begging, and Arthur never begged; that had to mean something, right? “Help us.” Any moment now, this could go wrong, and Uther would have them executed, and he had to protect Colin.

Colin raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Gaius, we aren’t impostors, and we don’t wish any harm on Camelot. We just need your help. We won’t tell anyone about Merlin’s magic, promise.”

“Promise,” Bradley added. He slid a step closer to Gaius.

Gaius lunged for the door and started to yell, “Guards!”

Panic up down Bradley’s spine. Colin leapt at Gaius and tried to clap a hand over his mouth, but Gaius threw him back. Colin crashed into a table and went down with a cry. Gaius wrenched the door open, and Bradley didn’t have time to think, only to do. He reached for Arthur’s ring, and then Gaius was yanked backward by an unseen force, and the door slammed shut.

Gaius spun around, and his eyes were almost comically wide. “You have magic.”

Bradley could only nod silently. In the corner, Colin was just a heap of limbs, and he wasn’t moving.

“You’re not Prince Arthur,” Gaius said.

Bradley nodded again.

Gaius glanced at Colin. “Then who is he?”

“My best friend,” Bradley said, and prayed it was still true. Then he rushed to Colin’s side.

* * *

Arthur’s motions were short, constricted with anger as he unlocked Bradley’s door and then swept through the adjoining door into Colin’s room. Merlin immediately placed himself between Arthur and the bed, and his mind raced while he tried to think of something to keep Arthur away from the book.

Only...only maybe it wouldn’t be bad for Arthur to see the book, would it? In this world, Merlin was safe, if only for a while. Arthur could shout and throw things and maybe chase Merlin with his sword, but he couldn’t have Merlin thrown in the stocks or dungeons, and he certainly couldn’t have Merlin executed.

“So...running lines.” Arthur paced a short strip up and down the carpet, hands clasped behind his back. “What does that mean, exactly? I understand it’s not physically running – it’s some sort of review. But of what?”

“I don’t know,” Merlin said quietly. Guilt churned low in his gut. Could he do this? Could he tell Arthur, make him understand what it felt like to be afraid, his entire life, of who and what he was?

“Jeremy said something about the shield and The Big Reveal, which several other people have mentioned. Whatever it is, The Big Reveal is important, and chances are Jeremy won’t leave us be until we’ve done it,” Arthur said. He was speaking slowly, words careful and measured so he could think as he paced. “What’s being revealed? Obviously Katie, Angel, and Tony know what it is, but we can’t go back there and ask them, not without getting Bradley and Colin – and therefore ourselves – into trouble.”

Merlin shook his head. “I don’t know.” He did know, but how could explain without revealing everything he didn’t want to say, everything he needed to say?

Arthur slewed him a look, his blue eyes flashing in irritation. “Come on, Merlin. Think. Because if we don’t figure it out, we’ll never get home.”

Merlin swallowed hard. “I know that.” When he’d left home that morning, it was to Gaius slamming the door in his face and yelling “Tell him!” Merlin had been afraid that he might never make it home, that Arthur would fling him in the dungeons and then burn him at dawn if he confessed. It hadn’t occurred to Merlin that he wouldn’t make it home because he didn’t confess about his magic.

“Then think of something so we can go home. You do want to go home, don’t you, Merlin?”

“Yes, of course,” Merlin said. And he did want to go home, he did, but here – here he was safe. Here no one would try to kill him for what he was.

Arthur buried his face in his hands and was quiet for a long time. Too long.

Merlin stared down at his hands, waiting for an answer, for something, anything. For all that Arthur was brash and rude and conceited, he was also a warrior, and he could always think of a plan. Always.

But not this time.

Arthur lifted his head and said, very quietly, “Merlin, I don’t know what to do.”

Merlin looked up. Arthur’s face was pale and drawn. Merlin knew that expression. Arthur had worn that expression when he was afraid was Morgana was going to die, back when he still loved her like a sister, before he’d known she really was his sister.

“Don’t you see? This is why magic is dangerous. There’s nothing we can do to fight it. Even if we had the entire army of Camelot at our disposal and all the weapons in the world, magic brought us here, and only magic can take us back, and who knows what magic Colin and Bradley are working in Camelot as we speak.”

Merlin bit his lip.

Arthur lowered his head again. “We have no choice, Merlin.” He swallowed hard. “We have to do it.”

“Do what?” Merlin asked. Fear curled in his chest.

“Confess who we are and ask someone to use magic to send us home,” Arthur said. “I cannot condone the use of magic, but there’s no other way.”

“But if we tell them, they might lock us up,” Merlin said. “We can’t tell them, not if we want to be safe. They don’t know you’re Prince Arthur – a prince is a valuable hostage. You saw what your father did to get Morgana back. He’d do anything for you –”

“What choice do we have? Neither of us know anything about magic.” Arthur pressed his lips into a thin line. His expression was grave.

Merlin closed his eyes and took a deep breath. This was it, then. The moment of truth. And if it wasn’t the moment, Merlin was going to make it the moment. This was his best chance. “What if one of us did know some magic?”

Arthur turned to him. “What?”

“I said –”

Arthur’s eyes narrowed. “I heard you.”

“But you said –”

Arthur prowled closer to Merlin. “I am aware that Gaius once used magic, but that he forswore it during the Great Purge. Has he taught you, Merlin? Are you more than just a physician’s apprentice?”

Merlin shook his head. “No, Gaius has never taught me magic.” It was the truth.

Arthur arched an eyebrow. “Then what would you know about magic, Merlin?”

Merlin’s throat closed.

“Merlin?”

His heart stuttered in his chest.

“What do you know about magic?” Arthur asked softly, his breath stirring the air beside Merlin’s ear.

Merlin opened his mouth, but he couldn’t make any words come out.

Arthur asked, “Merlin, do you have magic?”

And Merlin finally managed to say, “Yes.”

Arthur’s warmth beside him vanished in an instant.

Merlin’s eyes flew open, and he saw Arthur standing with his sword leveled right at Merlin’s throat.

“So this entire time you’ve been lying to me,” Arthur said.

The betrayal and hurt in Arthur’s voice were like shards in Merlin’s lungs, making it hard to breathe. He said, “Yes.”

Arthur’s eyes were so dark they were almost black; his expression was blank and unreadable. His grip on the sword was unwavering. “You were the traitor in my father’s court, the traitor for Morgana. Because you were in love with her.”

“I was never in love with Morgana!” Merlin cried.

“And Morgause – you helped her defeat me, didn’t you? You knew about my affections for my mother and you – you betrayed me!” Arthur’s eyes were dark and hollow, but his voice was full of fury.

Merlin couldn’t stand it any longer, couldn’t stand the weight of the feelings – guilt, fear, anger, sorrow – that had been building up inside him for so long. Maybe he had betrayed Arthur, but he’d been betrayed in return.

“If I’d betrayed you, I’d have let your father die a hundred times over! When Edwin poisoned him, or when the Black Knight was fighting him, or when Lady Catrina ensorcelled him, or the time you tried to kill him yourself! Because my life would have been so, so much easier if your magic-hating hypocrite of a father were long gone!”

Fury blazed in Arthur’s eyes. “How dare you speak of your king in such a manner!”

“He’s not _my_ king.”

“He’s my _father_.”

“And he would have seen _my_ father killed!” The words tumbled out before Merlin couldn’t stop them. He’d meant to tell Arthur of his magic, of lots of things – but not of this.

Arthur frowned, confused. “What?”

“My father was a Dragonlord,” Merlin said. When he closed his eyes, he could feel the weight of his father in his arms as he died.

“What?”

“Balinor,” Merlin said. “He was my father. He died saving me, because I wanted him to help save Camelot.”

Arthur’s grip on his sword faltered. “Balinor? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you stood by and watched Gwen’s father die, because you stood by and watched hundreds of magic users die and any one of them could have been me!” Merlin’s hands curled into fists, and he knew he was shouting, that he was probably crying, but he didn’t care.

“Merlin –”

“And Gwen’s father didn’t even have magic! I was the one who healed him when he was sick.” Merlin pressed his hand to his mouth to try to stem the tide of words and emotions, and he could feel himself shaking.

Arthur’s throat worked, and he searched for words. He twitched his sword back up to Merlin’s face. “You lied to me! For years!”

“I gave everything to you,” Merlin said. “My life, my mother’s life, the life of the girl I loved. I gave you my magic and my loyalty, and because you’re too stupid and blinded by your father’s bigotry you call me a betrayer. The only betrayer is you, Arthur. You betrayed Gwen and Elyan, and you betrayed me.”

Arthur’s grip on his sword faltered. “The girl you loved?”

“Her name was Freya, and you killed her.” Merlin choked on the word _Freya_ , and he scrubbed his hand across his eyes.

“I – what?”

“I held her as she died. My magic wasn’t enough. I couldn’t save her. But I used my magic to save Gwen for you.”

Arthur spluttered. “Gwen knows you have magic?”

“No. Hardly anyone knows. If they knew, they’d be in danger.”

Arthur took a step back, but he didn’t lower his sword. “Then in Ealdor –”

“I tried to tell you, but Will – he was protecting me too.”

Arthur’s eyes narrowed. “Have you ever used magic on me?”

A donkey’s laughter-like bray. Keys jangling in the air. A helmet to the head. Healing spells whispered in desperation. A murmured charm over armor to keep it strong.

Merlin nodded.

“Have you ever used magic on my father?”

Merlin swallowed hard. “Never to hurt him. Only to heal him –”

Fury blazed in Arthur’s eyes anew. “I should kill you where you stand.” He stepped closer, sword poised to strike.

“He was lying, you know,” Merlin said.

“You’re lying to me now,” Arthur snapped, but he didn’t sound so sure.

Merlin shrugged helplessly. “You really were born of magic.”

Arthur wavered for a moment, then brought his sword up to bear once more. “You said Morgause was lying.”

“No – I said that the things the illusion of Ygraine told you – those were Morgause’s words. And some of them were. But Nimueh did help your mother conceive, and magic did claim your mother’s life in return, but – it was an accident. There was no way your father could have known whose life it would take.” Merlin remembered the terror he’d felt when he and Gaius discovered his mother on the workroom floor after Merlin had offered his life for his future king’s.

“You’re trying to distract me,” Arthur said. His voice shook.

“Maybe I am. Doesn’t mean it’s not the truth.” Merlin swiped a hand across his eyes again. “You were telling the truth too, that day, that your father’s hatred of magic stems from your mother’s death, that hundreds of innocent people have been slaughtered to ease his guilt.”

Arthur brought the sword higher; Merlin felt the coolness of the tip at his throat, felt it sting and felt blood trickle down his skin.

“All these years I thought you were my friend, that I could trust you, and you’ve been using your magic on me. When we return to Camelot –” Arthur’s jaw tightened. “We have laws for a reason.”

Merlin bit his lip, searched Arthur’s eyes, but all he saw was blackness there, a blackness he’d never seen before. “I always wondered if you’d watch me burn when they finally caught me. I guess I have my answer.”

“Magic is evil and it corrupts.”

“Yet magic is the reason you breathe today,” Merlin whispered. “Tell me, Arthur, what does that make you?”

Shock flared in Arthur’s eyes, bright blue and wide. He fell back a step, then another. His sword slipped from his hands.

“Get out of my sight,” he said, his voice dangerously soft.

Merlin hadn’t meant it like that. He scrambled to explain. “Arthur –”

“I said _get out_!”

Merlin fled. He tore open the door and burst into the hallway, sank against the wall and tried to remember how to breathe. He heard the door slam shut behind him.

And then Uther said, “I read the script, and I’m pretty sure that’s not how the scene goes.”

Merlin’s heart leapt into his throat. He straightened up, but it wasn’t Uther come to kill him, it was Tony standing in the hallway with his guitar in hand.

Tony smiled at him tentatively. “Is everything all right, Colin?”

Merlin shook his head.

“Disagreement about the scene, then?”

Merlin shook his head again, sniffled, and realized in horror that he was crying.

Tony realized it too. “Oh dear.” He stepped closer to Merlin, tugged him away from the wall. “Is it from all the stress? D’you want to talk about it?”

Merlin shook his head. “Not really. Please. You should just leave me alone –”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea. You never know where there’s media lurking about,” Tony said. He took Merlin by the elbow and steered him toward the stairs. “Come on. Let’s go down to the bar. Maybe some whisky will calm your nerves, yes?”

Merlin glanced over his shoulder at Bradley’s door, but Tony tugged firmly, and Merlin let himself go.


	5. Chapter 5

Colin groaned and pushed himself up into a sitting position. “For such an old man, Gaius is bloody strong.”

“Language, Merlin,” Gaius said sharply, and then cut himself off. He pressed his lips into a thin line, looking grim.

“Are you all right?” Bradley asked. He wound an arm around Colin’s shoulders.

“My head hurts. I think I might be concussed. Did Gaius just say you’re not Prince Arthur?”

Bradley’s throat closed, but he nodded and tried to force some words out anyway. “Yeah. I promised you we’d convince him somehow.”

“But...Gaius thinks you’re not Prince Arthur because you have magic, and everyone knows just because Arthur was born of magic doesn’t mean he has magic.” Colin did sound like he was babbling a bit, and he swayed a bit when he finally got to his feet. He rubbed his head, and Bradley could only hang onto his shoulders, listening to his own heart pounding in his ears. “You don’t have magic, Bradley. Real people don’t have magic.”

Bradley said nothing.

Lucidity crept back into Colin’s eyes with alarming speed.

“Do they?” he asked.

Bradley stepped back, glanced around the room. He spotted a candle on a nearby table and picked it up, and he lifted it to his lips, but then he paused, looked up at Colin. Colin’s expression was horribly blank, unreadable, and his eyes were so dark they were almost black. Gaius was staring intently as well, and Bradley felt his breath catch in his chest, and no, he needed to be able to breathe right now, couldn’t lose control, not when the Tapestry was screaming in his ears.

Bradley closed his eyes and exhaled, and golden light blossomed against his eyelids.

He opened his eyes, and Colin was staring at the flickering flame of the candle.

Gaius was staring as well. “What kind of magic was that? You didn’t incant a spell.”

Bradley smiled faintly. “Just like Merlin, I was born with my magic.”

Colin’s gaze remained fixed on the candle. “That’s impossible. People don’t have magic. Not really.”

Bradley felt his chest constrict. “Colin –”

“It’s not possible. Real people don’t have magic, and even if people _do_ have magic, my best friend would have told me years ago, when we first met and started working on _Merlin_ , a show about a boy who has to hide his magic.” Merlin’s accent had dissolved halfway through Colin’s rant, and near the end Bradley was hard-pressed to understand his words at all, but he could read pure and utter fury in every line of Colin’s body.

“Colin, it’s not that simple,” Bradley said.

“Really? What’s so complicated about it? It’s not like anyone would have you killed,” Colin said. “If I’d had a huge secret, like if I was gay or something, I’d have told you as soon as we became proper friends.” His eyes flashed from black to blue, and for the first time in Bradley’s life, he was afraid of Colin, afraid of what Colin could do to him with words alone.

Bradley shook his head helplessly. “What was I supposed to say, Colin? ‘Hi, I’m Bradley. You’re cast as Merlin, but I’m the one who has magic.’ You’d have laughed me off the set.”

“I would have believed you if you showed it to me,” Colin snapped. His hands curled into white-knuckled fists, and he was actually quivering with tension.

“And if I showed it to you, what then? What would you do, knowing that I could set something on fire with a thought or accidentally kill a man by flinging something across the room with a spell?” Bradley cried.

Colin lifted his chin. “Have you ever killed a man accidentally?”

“No –”

“Then I’d have been fine about it!”

Gaius had moved away from the door and toward Bradley, his steps hesitant, as if he were approaching a skittish colt.

“I’ve known Arthur all his life, and I’d know if he had magic. What you did – only Merlin has ever come close to it.”

Bradley shook his head. “I’m nowhere near as strong as Merlin, but here, in this world, there’s more magic, so everything’s – bigger. Brighter.” He looked at Colin. “I wanted to tell you, I really did, but –”

“But what, you didn’t trust me?”

Bradley felt his stomach twist. “I trust you Colin, I do.”

Colin’s eyes narrowed. “Are you the reason we’re here?”

“What? No! There’s no way – I don’t have nearly that kind of power.”

“And yet you can slam a door or light a candle with a thought.” Then Colin’s eyes went wide. “In the cave, when the lights went out – the candle! You asked for Merlin’s candle, and you –”

“Yes,” Bradley said quietly.

Colin crossed his arms over his chest. “What other magic have you done that I haven’t known about? Don’t tell me that you have some sort of grand destiny to watch over me or whatever, because I can look out for myself. Despite what the fans think, I’m not actually a baby deer.”

Bradley shrugged helplessly. “You don’t understand – magic in our world doesn’t work like magic here. It’s much more difficult. I can’t do anything big.”

“You didn’t answer my questions.”

“I –” Bradley threw his hands up. “Sometimes I brew you tea faster than is typically possible and one time I saved you from spilling a glass of wine on a white shirt and – small things. Things that don’t really matter in the end.” But they’d mattered when eventually the paradox of the universe built up and hit Bradley so hard he’d been in bed for a week. Luckily it had been during the hiatus and his mother had just told everyone he was under the weather. (His sister laughed herself sick because his skin had turned green.)

“But you do have magic,” Colin said.

Bradley nodded. “Yes.”

“And you were born with it,” Colin said.

Bradley nodded. “Yes.”

“Just like Merlin?”

“Yes – and no. My magic didn’t awaken until I was fifteen,” Bradley said. “I’m a bit of a late bloomer, actually. Most people in my family awaken by twelve.”

Colin raised his eyebrows. “Your parent _s_ have magic?”

Bradley felt his mouth go dry. “No. Just my mum. My sister and I, we got it from her.”

“And your dad?”

“He left when he found out.”

“Oh,” Colin said quietly. He tilted his head to one side curiously. “Do your eyes turn gold, like Merlin’s?”

“No,” Bradley said. “Like I said before – magic is different back home. Harder.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I wanted to tell you, I did, but – it’s just not done. We don’t really tell people, because...”

“Because they leave,” Colin said.

Bradley closed his eyes and nodded. He could remember chasing his father toward the door, screaming and crying and banging his fists on the window, and he could remember the soft spell his mother cast so his father wouldn’t hear his daughter’s sobs as he drove away.

“Did you think I would leave you?” Colin asked.

“I never wanted to risk it,” Bradley said. “Mages go their entire lives among oblivious Sleepers, and it’s not so bad.”

“Sleepers?” Colin echoed. “That sounds a bit more derogatory than _Muggles_.”

Bradley shook his head. “It’s just a term that developed over time. When we come into our magic, it’s called The Awakening, and –”

“I take it magic is not banned in your home,” Gaius said, and Bradley was reminded, forcefully, of where he was and what was going on.

“It’s not,” Colin said, “because no one believes it exists.”

Gaius nodded and stepped closer. “I take it you two are no longer arguing?”

Bradley cast a hopeful look at Colin. Colin pressed his lips into a thin line for a moment, then said, “I’m still angry –”

“Rightly so,” Bradley said.

“– But we have bigger issues to deal with, so we’ll see if we can figure out how to get everyone back in the right universe, and then Bradley – you and I need to talk.”

* * *

Tony stowed his guitar in his room, then led Merlin down the stairs and across the street to a pub. He steered Merlin toward a back table and then ordered both of them some whisky.

“What happened? You and Bradley always get along so well,” Tony said.

They weren’t Bradley and Colin – they were Arthur and Merlin, and they had years of betrayal and secrets between them.

“I really don’t want to talk about it,” Merlin said. Tony was being nice much nicer than the real Uther would have been had he been the one to run into Merlin.

“All right,” Tony said. “Just – you both seemed odd earlier, when you came by my room. I understand shooting ended early due to a massive electrical failure. Did either of you get hurt?”

“We’re both unharmed,” Merlin said. He was glad of the hood on Colin’s jacket, and he tugged it up, feeling self-conscious. He could feel people staring at him.

“That’s good.”

The whiskey arrived then. Merlin drank it slowly, because he had no head for strong liquor, and Tony drank his slowly as well.

“I know you don’t want to talk about it, but is there anything I can do to help?” Tony asked.

Merlin peered at him. The expression the older man wore was warm and fatherly; Merlin wondered if Balinor would ever have looked at him like that, had Merlin come to him with a problem.

“D’you think it’s ever right to lie?”

“That’s a difficult question,” Tony said. “Before starting on this show, I’d have had a definite answer, but watching Merlin save Arthur with magic and knowing that Merlin would likely lose his life as soon as someone found out makes it rather complicated. Lying, I suppose, is like any other number of sins – it depends on the degree.”

“Merlin’s lying about who he is,” Merlin pointed out, and it was so bizarre to talk about himself in the third person.

“Yes and no.” Tony sipped his drink. “He’s never lied about being loyal to Arthur, or being a true friend, or being clumsy and insubordinate. He’s lied about a big part of who he is, don’t get me wrong – but magic is a tool, and Merlin has never lied about the sort of wielder he is.”

“But – Merlin’s killed people.” Sometimes that was what terrified Merlin more – not that he’d die for Arthur, but that he’d kill for him.

“So has Arthur. Neither of them kill wantonly – they kill in self-defense,” Tony said. “These days, at least in this part of the world, people don’t have to kill to defend themselves nearly as often.” He arched an eyebrow. “I take it you told Bradley something about yourself, something important that you’ve kept hidden for a while, and he didn’t take it well?”

Tony was far more perceptive to the human condition that Uther was. Then again, as far as Uther was concerned most of the people in his household were barely more than intelligent animals. Time to attempt a distraction.

“I’m a bit hungry,” Merlin said. “D’you think I could have some food? I ate earlier, but it wasn’t nearly enough.”

Tony nodded. “What would you like?”

“Ye gods – something with meat and cheese. I love cheese.” Merlin sat up straighter, eager for food. He’d pay Tony back, conjure a few gold coins when no one was looking.

Tony, who’d lifted a hand to summon a serving girl, paused. “You want meat? And cheese?”

“Yes please,” Merlin said slowly, but he remembered how he’d had none of the sort at supper, and had he just gone and done something terribly, terribly wrong?

“Colin, are you feeling all right? Please tell me you’re not trying to top yourself with your lactose intolerance,” Tony said.

“Lactose...?” Merlin echoed, puzzled.

Tony reached out and wrenched Merlin’s hood back. “You’re not Colin, are you?” He peered closely at Merlin.

“Yes I am,” Merlin said, and he felt his palms begin to sweat.

“You haven’t spoken in your true accent once since I’ve seen you today,” Tony said. “Even if you were running lines, the emotional dust-up you had with Bradley back there would certainly have kicked you back into your true brogue.”

“I really am Colin,” Merlin said, and Tony reached into his jacket, likely for a weapon. Panic spread through Merlin’s veins, and he said, “Please don’t.”

“I’m going to call Colin right now,” Tony said, “and if he answers –”

“Please, don’t say anything,” Merlin begged. “I can explain.”

Tony stood up. “You’d bloody well better.” His brow was furrowed, and Merlin was afraid he was seeing Uther underneath after all. “Let’s go somewhere private.” He threw down some colored pieces of parchment – was that what they used for money here? – and strode to the door.

Merlin scurried to follow. Tony led him back to the hotel and up into his room. He closed the door, and Merlin wished he’d had the warrior’s instinct to not let Tony get between him and the door.

“Now tell me who you are and exactly what’s going on,” Tony said.

Merlin shivered under Tony’s gaze – that was Uther’s gaze, the one that had damned a hundred like Merlin to the pyres. “Promise me – promise that you’re not King Uther.”

Tony raised his eyebrows. “What?” Some of the anger in his gaze dissipated.

“Do you promise?” Merlin asked. Maybe he could make Uther forget with some sort of spell.

“I promise,” Tony said. “Are you a mental patient of some sort, son? Merlin isn’t real. Magic isn’t real, and I’m not King Uther. Were you trying to pretend to be Colin for Bradley? Is that why he’s upset with you?”

Merlin reached for his magic – and felt it, for the first time, resist. He reached for it again, stretched out his hand, and Tony flung his hands up.

“Look, you clearly need help, you’re obviously delusional –”

Merlin said, “ _Forbaerne_ ,” and flames danced across his palm.

Tony swore. He swore again and fell back a step. “You – your eyes turned golden. You have magic.”

“I’m very sorry. We didn’t mean to lie to you. We thought we would be safer if we pretended to be Bradley and Colin –”

Tony yanked his gaze away from the flicker of flames on Merlin’s outstretched hand. “We who? You – you have _magic_!”

Merlin closed his hand, let the flames die. “Please, not so loud. Arthur’s so angry right now –”

Tony made a choking sound. “That oddness earlier – that was _Arthur_? Arthur Pendragon?”

Merlin nodded.

“So you’re Merlin?”

He nodded.

Tony pressed a hand to his head. “This is madness. I knew you couldn’t be Colin as soon as you asked for cheese. Colin’s lactose intolerant. I know eating it makes him terribly ill. But – you’re Merlin. And that boy who looks like Bradley is Arthur. And you – you thought I was King Uther?”

“You’re much nicer than he is,” Merlin blurted out. “Just – you look exactly like him, especially when you’re angry.”

Tony studied him for a long moment. Then he said, “This is a prank, isn’t it? You and Bradley are having me on. I know you can cry on command, Colin. Where’s the special effects team? That thing with the fire was pretty good.”

“It’s not a prank,” Merlin said. “Please – you must believe us. We just want to get home.”

“Then why were you crying in the hallway? Why weren’t you off questing your way home or whatever?” Tony raised his eyebrows.

“Magic brought us here,” Merlin said, “and only magic can take us home. I – I had to tell Arthur, because it’s the only way for us to get home, and he –”

“This is some weird long-form improv off The Big Reveal, isn’t it?” Tony demanded.

Merlin shook his head. “No! I’m telling the truth! I saw the book, the one left for Colin Morgan, and I read it, and I came across the scene, The Big Reveal, and Arthur said we should run lines so we can do what Jeremy wants tomorrow and then go off and get the shield, find our way home, but I couldn’t let him see the book because then he would know I have magic, only he couldn’t think of a way home, so I had to tell him the truth and –”

Tony looked alarmed. “Son, slow down, remember to breathe.”

“When we get back to Camelot, he’s going to watch me burn,” Merlin said. He was fully aware when he started crying this time.

Tony sighed. “Colin, really, this has gone on long enough –”

“I’m not Colin!” Merlin shouted.

The glass rattled in the window. Merlin jumped, startled, and fought to drag his magic back under control. Tony stared at the window, and he looked afraid.

“You’re – you really are –”

Merlin nodded miserably.

Tony sank down on the bed. He reached for the bottle of wine, then set it aside. “This calls for something stronger. I don’t think I can – I’m calling Angel. And Katie. Now.”

That was how Merlin learned that the white brick-like devices actually allowed people to talk when they weren’t in each other’s physical presence, some sort of voice transmission system. He sat down in one of Tony’s chairs and thought, of all the ways he’d been afraid he would give himself away, cheese was the last one he expected.

Angel and Katie arrived, still a little drunk and looking tired. Tony told them what was going on, but they too were skeptical, suspecting some sort of prank, so Merlin froze a spill of wine in mid-air when they demanded to see magic as proof.

“This is so bizarre,” Angel said. She was looking at Merlin as if he were a particularly fascinating piece of art. “So earlier, when I bumped into Bradley, he was all weird because he’s actually Arthur?”

Merlin nodded.

Katie looked at him sympathetically. “Then it must have been such a shock to see me.” She patted his knee. “I promise I’m not as evil as Morgana is.” To Merlin’s surprise, she pulled him into a hug and patted his hair.

“So...Arthur knows you have magic now,” Angel said. She hummed thoughtfully. “Well, at least you can work on finding a way home.”

Tony said, “When they get back, Arthur will have him executed.”

“I really don’t think so,” Katie said. “I’m sure he’s feeling hurt and betrayed, yes, but he’ll come around. Remember? He almost died for Merlin, trying to get the Mortaeus flower.”

“That was before he knew I have magic.” Merlin scrubbed at his face. He hadn’t cried this much since he was a child and Will had crawled in through the window, bearing the news that his father was dead. They’d cried together all night.

Angel patted him on the shoulder. “Look, just give him some time to cool off. Maybe – maybe I should go talk to him. He doesn’t know that I know who he really is, and since apparently I look exactly like Gwen, maybe it’ll soften him up a bit.”

Katie grinned. “That’s quite devious of you.”

“I’m not going to do anything horrible and mean like kiss him,” Angel said. “Just...talk to him. In the meantime, you lot should figure out how you got here and how best to get home.” She pushed herself up and headed for the door. “Right. I’m Angel, and I’m going to talk to Bradley because Colin is very upset, but he won’t say about what. And...action.” And she stepped out of the room.

Merlin was puzzled at the way she was talking to herself, but Tony and Katie just laughed softly.

“So,” Tony said, “tell us what happened this morning.”

Merlin did. Tony and Katie nodded and asked questions occasionally. They seemed quite familiar with the quest for the shield, and Merlin ended up asking them questions about why people were running around pretending to be his friends and family.

That people in this world considered Merlin’s life – his constant struggle and his daily peril – entertainment was disconcerting, and Katie was actually quite apologetic about it all.

“So you were in the cave looking for the shield, there was an explosion of light, and then you were here,” Tony said. He frowned thoughtfully.

“Since we’re working on the assumption that films and books have some truth to them, we should consider how this would happen in a film,” Katie said. “Did you encounter any sort of wise man who said cryptic things?”

“No, unless you count Kilgarrah, but it’s been a while,” Merlin said.

Tony blinked. “Right. Dragons. Real. Er...did either of you touch something you weren’t supposed to? Something unusual?”

Merlin shook his head.

Katie sighed. “Did either of you make a wish?”

“Why a wish?” Tony asked.

Katie cast him a look. “You know, wish magic – a character wishes for something really hard and it comes true, but in a really bizarre fashion?”

Tony looked puzzled.

“Like...in _17 Again_ or _13 Going on 30_ ,” Katie said.

Merlin was puzzled too.

“I’ve never heard of those,” Tony said.

Katie rolled her eyes. “For heaven’s sake – you have a daughter. But that doesn’t matter. Merlin, did you or Arthur make a wish?”

Merlin started to shake his head, then paused.

Tony raised his eyebrows. “You made a wish?”

“Well, I didn’t say anything out loud,” Merlin said. “Just – this morning, Gaius insisted I tell Arthur and not to come back until I had, and I thought it would be perfect, if I were in a place where Arthur couldn’t have me or my loved ones arrested or killed after I confessed.”

“How hard were you thinking it?” Katie asked.

“Well, quite hard, I suppose. I was a bit distracted from the task at hand in the cave.” Merlin bit his lip. “You think I’m the reason we’re here?”

“Wish magic,” Katie said wisely. “In the films, usually once the wish is fulfilled and the wisher has learned his lesson, everything goes back to normal.”

“So...now that I’ve confessed to Arthur, we should just wait and we’ll get back home?”

“Maybe,” Tony said. “But what about Bradley and Colin? It’s not as if one of them could have triggered this. Will they be pulled back home automatically as well? Are they all right?”

“I suppose they’re safer than ever, as neither of them have magic,” Katie said.

Merlin nodded. “But if they act odd – if someone thinks they’re impostors –”

“Bradley and Colin know the way things work in Camelot,” Tony said. “And they’re both excellent actors. Chances are, they’ve gone to Gaius and he’s none the wiser.”

There was a knock at the door, and the three of them turned.

“Who is it?” Tony asked.

“Angel and Arthur.”

Merlin raised his eyebrows at the sound of his prince’s real name.

Katie stood up and pulled the door open. Angel and Arthur stood in the doorway, Angel smiling tentatively, Arthur looking stiff and tense, as if he were about to face an uncomfortable audience with his father.

“Please, come in,” Tony said.

Arthur gestured for Angel to precede him, then closed the door. He remained standing in front of it, ready to bolt at any moment.

“So now they all know, _Merlin_.”

His voice cracked like a whip.

Merlin flinched. “They’ll help us get home.”

Arthur stared at him for a long moment. Merlin couldn’t read the look in his eyes, but he had to say something, anything. He remembered the pain in Arthur’s eyes when he’d reminded Arthur that his very existence was the result of magic.

Merlin said, “I’m sorry I lied to you,” at the same time as Arthur said, “I understand why you lied to me.” They both stopped and stared at each other.

Angel hid a smile behind her hand.

“I know you’re not your father,” Merlin said, “and just because you’re born of magic doesn’t make you evil.”

“I was angry,” Arthur said, “after the events with Morgause, but...I know, Merlin, that _you_ are not evil. Angel assured me of that.” He sighed and swiped a hand over his face. “My entire life, I’ve learnt to fear and hate magic. And I can’t just make that go away.”

“I know,” Merlin said. “But I can teach you – show you how magic is good.”

Katie nudged Merlin and said, “Show him something small.”

Merlin glanced at Arthur, who blanched at the thought of seeing magic up close. “I don’t think he’s comfortable –”

Katie glanced at Angel, and something unspoken passed between them. Even Tony caught on.

“Can you conjure a light?” he asked.

Merlin nodded. “Fire. I use it for torches all the time, and to keep Arthur’s room warm in the winter.”

“A different sort of light,” Angel suggested.

Merlin wracked his memory. “Er. All right.” And he stretched forth a hand. He murmured a spell, and a ball of blue light blossomed over his palm. “Like this?”

“Yes,” Katie said, and she sounded delighted.

Merlin glanced up at Arthur, who had gone very still.

“Is this the first time you’ve cast that spell?” he asked.

“Probably not. Why?”

“It’s just – in the caves. When I was searching for that flower, a light guided me out, one that looked just like that. Did you cast it?”

“Gaius did say I was muttering in my sleep. Maybe?” Merlin glanced at the girls; they must have known the light would mean something to Arthur.

Arthur sighed. “Just how many times have you saved me?”

“He’s lost count,” Katie said, and she smiled, pleased.

“I see.” Arthur pressed a hand to his eyes and took a deep breath. “Let’s talk about how we’re getting home, and then – then Merlin and I need to have a long chat.”

“Excellent,” Tony said. “Should I order in?”

“Chinese take-out sounds great right about now,” Angel said. She glanced at Merlin. “What would you like to eat?”

“Get the boy a sandwich – with meat and cheese,” Tony said, and Merlin broke into a wide grin.

Arthur sat down beside him, and he was wearing that expression he wore right before he did something stupid to try to cheer Merlin up, like wrestle him into a headlock or punch him in the shoulder.

“I’m still angry,” Arthur said quietly. “And I suppose you are too. I’m angry, Merlin, but I – I won’t let you die. Sometimes I have to do what’s right and damn the consequences.”

“Thanks,” Merlin said. He reached out with the hand that was balancing the ball of light. “Would you like to hold it?”

“Can I?”

“Let’s find out.”


	6. Chapter 6

Gaius gestured toward one of his benches. “Please, have a seat. Tell me – how did you come to be in Camelot?”

“Actually,” Bradley said, “we landed in Odin’s territory originally.” And so he told Gaius what had happened, starting from filming the scene in the cave to emerging in a different world. He let Colin handle Gaius’s endless questions about their world and the series. Gaius was fascinated – and a little repulsed – at the notion that his life and the lives of his friends were entertainment for children on a Saturday night, but Colin was likeable, and Gaius warmed to him.

He was understandably more wary of Bradley, who looked exactly like someone who could have him killed for the conversation they were having.

“So, if I understand your situation correctly, you sensed no magic and no one cast any spells before the lights went out, but that’s the moment when you were transported?” Gaius asked. “And you’re from either the future or an alternate universe.”

“That’s right,” Colin said. He’d slipped back into Merlin’s accent after Gaius asked him to repeat himself more slowly for the tenth time. Bradley wanted the real Colin back.

“Actually,” Bradley said, and the other two turned to him, “I didn’t feel any magic at the time the lights went out, but afterwards I checked the Tapestry, and I could see that there’s a, er, hole – for lack of a better word – in reality. I’m guessing someone with a lot of magic punched through it, and we fell through, and so did Merlin and Arthur.”

“What Tapestry?” Gaius asked.

Bradley winced. Right. Confessing his magic didn’t automatically make the people around him fluent in its jargon. He was unused to talking about his magic to Sleepers. “Mage term. The Tapestry is reality. Essentially, a Mage is a person who can see the Tapestry, see the strands of energy and life and time that make up the world and can reweave them to her choosing simply by force of will. By looking at the Tapestry, I can tell when magic has been cast in my vicinity, and sometimes I can see what kind, and by whom.”

Realization dawned on Colin’s face. “When you passed out near the cave – it was because you were looking at the Tapestry?”

“Yeah.” Now that Bradley was talking about it, he could feel it plucking at the edges of his senses. “When a Mage Awakens, it’s the first time she’s able to perceive the Tapestry, and usually it’s a bit of a shock. Here the Tapestry is much more – vivid. There’s more magic here.”

“More?” Gaius asked.

Bradley nodded. “Magic isn’t some mystical force – the power is inside the people, and spells are just exertions of human will on reality. Magic works because people will it to, and here people believe, so when a Mage casts, the spell is more likely to hold, because the people believe it will, believe that conjuring a storm to relieve a drought is possible. In our world, no one believes, and their collective denial holds the Tapestry in place, so reweaving the strands is a massively difficult feat, and casting magic in the open, where people choose not to see it and ignore its effects is even more difficult.” He sounded like his own cabal leader. The thought was less distressing than he’d thought it would be as a teenager. “The Tapestry is controlled by the collective willpower of humanity; Mages just have stronger wills. Sometimes, of course, the universe doesn’t like a Mage messing with the Tapestry too much, and Paradox strikes – the magic backlashes on the Mage.”

Colin and Gaius both looked awed. Gaius didn’t look as afraid now. Perhaps seeing Bradley talk so openly about magic made him seem much less like Arthur.

“Wow,” Colin said softly. “You sound kind of – smart.”

Bradley blinked. “Thanks. I think.”

“No – I didn’t mean it like that! Just – magic sounds like a really technical thing, but you just get it,” Colin said. The tension in his shoulders had faded some, and he was almost smiling. “So you call yourselves Mages, and not wizards or sorcerers or anything?”

Bradley nodded, suddenly feeling oddly shy. “Yeah.” Colin’s curiosity – genuine interest, without the repulsion he’d seen in his father’s eyes when his father had caught his mother healing Bradley’s badly-scraped knee – was oddly warming.

Gaius nodded. “I suppose that makes sense – a hole in reality that you fell through. Merlin has never mentioned this Tapestry, though.”

“As you mentioned, Merlin’s magic is elemental and instinctual, and magic here is stronger. Chances are he can just reweave the Tapestry without looking at it because he can feel it. Or maybe his eyes flash gold because that’s when he’s seeing the Tapestry – I don’t know.” Bradley shrugged. “From what I’ve seen, Merlin has the raw power to push through the Tapestry.”

“I don’t think the book I gave him has such a spell,” Gaius said, and he sounded genuinely puzzled.

Bradley rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling uneasy. He wasn’t sure how Gaius would take this next piece of information. “Here’s the thing. From what I’ve seen on the show, as a general rule, Merlin’s magic is more powerful when he just uses his will. But – sometimes his magic isn’t so great, because he’s confining himself with spells. Some people do need words to focus their magic, yes, but Merlin has enough power that he can do whatever he wants. Words are a good limit on his imagination, because it seems he can remake reality when he sees fit, but...maybe don’t depend on spells so much in the future. Let Merlin make things happen.”

“I noticed that,” Colin said. “Merlin can stop time, but he can’t summon a stupid cup to him? His inconsistency with magic is frustrating at times.”

“Magic is a delicate balance of control and imagination,” Bradley said. “Theoretically, a Mage can do anything she imagines, but if she doesn’t have the strength of will to make the magic hold, it might very well kill her.”

Colin looked surprised and faintly horrified at the notion.

Bradley nodded. “Spells can kill a caster quite easily.”

Gaius asked, “Who is ‘she’?”

Bradley blinked. “She who?”

“You keep referring to ‘she’,” Gaius said.

Bradley shrugged, a little self-conscious. “It’s a Mage thing, I guess. Female is our overarching pronoun system instead of male.

Colin nodded, but Gaius looked dubious.

“You think Merlin is the cause of this, then?” he asked.

“It’s the most logical solution,” Bradley said. He cast a sly glance at Colin. “I told you magic could be logical.”

“Yeah, you did.” And this time Colin did smile.

“So how do we repair the hole in the Tapestry?” Gaius asked.

“While it might repair itself, I think Merlin’s strength is genuinely uncharted and it might not, at least not until Merlin has done what he needed to when he created the rift,” Bradley said. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Since the rift isn’t actually a physical space, we can’t really jump through it, and even if we could, having both pairs of us in the same reality might do something really terrible.”

“Time traveler’s paradox,” Colin said wisely, and Bradley nodded.

“Something to that effect.”

“It sounds like you were at the same place when the switch occurred,” Gaius said. “So perhaps you need to be in the same place so the switch can happen again.”

“Would Uther let us ride back out there?” Colin asked. “We’re supposed to be sitting around waiting for Morgause and Morgana to steal the shield. Which is a pretty cracked plan, if you ask me.”

“Maybe you could invent a ruse to ride out? Another magical beast?” Gaius said. “After all, it worked when you – er, Arthur wanted to joust in that tournament.”

Bradley frowned. “Maybe. I’ll think of something more believable than a gryphon with the face of a bear.”

Gaius chuckled. “When Uther told me of it, I’d never heard of it, and I suppose I should have been suspicious when I didn’t find it in any of my books.”

“Bradley,” Colin said, “could you fight Morgause and Morgana with your magic? Like – attack them directly?”

Both Gaius and Colin fixed Bradley with earnest expressions. He cringed.

“Like I said, I’m not nearly as powerful as Merlin. Granted, my magic here is bigger and stronger than back home, but I never trained as a battle Mage. I don’t have the focus necessary for a really impressive spell, not to mention I don’t know how Paradox works here. One spell too big and I could be flat on my back for two weeks, green as a toad.”

“Green as a toad?” Colin echoed.

Bradley coughed. Of course he’d let that bit come tumbling out. “Yes, well, paradox expresses itself in odd ways. My mother told everyone I had a cold. No one asked questions or tried to see me.”

“You are a bit of a beast when you’re ill.” Colin nodded wisely.

Gaius said, “You mentioned only some people need to incant to focus their magic. What’s your focus?”

“My ring, actually.” Bradley held up his right hand, then paused, held up his left hand. “Well, this is Arthur’s ring, but I have a ring of my own that I wear. It’s not very big, but then I’m not a very strong Mage.”

“How does it work?” Colin asked. He leaned in, curious.

Bradley stretched out his hand. “It’s not complicated, really. Some small spells I can do without the focus, but –” He thought quickly. “Here.” He picked up one of Gaius’s vials and tipped its contents out. With his thumb, he twisted the ring round his index finger, and the blue-green droplets froze in mid-air.

“Stopping time is very difficult,” Gaius said.

Bradley used the vial to scoop the droplets back up before they hit the table. “Yes and no. I grew up with the theory of relativity, so I believed early on that people can mess with time, that’s it’s fluid and not perfectly steady or linear.”

“Don’t ask about the theory of relativity,” Colin added when Gaius’s eyebrows lifted. “It’d take way too much background information to explain.” Colin turned to Bradley. “What else can you do?”

“The trick with the candle is one of the one’s I’m best at,” Bradley said.

“Like _Practical Magic_.” Colin grinned. “You’re such a girl, Bradley.”

“My Aunt Sarah loves that film.” Bradley sniffed. “Also, tea.” He stretched out his hand and set Gaius’s spoon a-stirring in his mug of tepid tea.

“Also from _Practical Magic_ ,” Colin pointed out.

“I did it before I saw the film,” Bradley said. “It was my first act of magic, actually.”

Colin laughed. “You English and your Tea.”

“Your magic seems enough like Merlin’s,” Gaius said. “He can move things and set things on fire and stop time.”

“Yes and no. I don’t have nearly his power. Perhaps from years of training I might have better control for small things. But I can’t transport myself great distances, and I cannot read minds, and I cannot heal or summon spirits of the dead.” Bradley shrugged. “Most Mages only have the strength to master three disciplines at the most. According to our history, Merlin was the only one to have mastered all nine.”

“So there was a real Merlin?” Colin asked.

“And apparently you do, in fact, look just like him,” Bradley said brightly.

Colin narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Then when we were driving around Wales –”

“None of us know where Merlin was born or where he lived,” Bradley said. “We have our legends, and you have yours.”

Gaius yawned suddenly, and he covered his hand with his mouth. “Pardon me.” He glanced at his Roman candle. “I didn’t realize it was so late. You’ve had a very exciting day. We should all rest and try to tackle this in the morning.”

Bradley nodded and stood up. “Of course. I didn’t mean to keep you with my babbling –”

“Hearing about your world is fascinating,” Gaius said. “But I am an old man, and I need my rest.”

“So you’ll help us?” Colin asked.

“Of course. Merlin is like a son to me, and I’d like him back,” Gaius said. “And you seem like nice lads – you deserve to get home.”

“Thank you,” Bradley said. He started for the door. “Er...where is Arthur’s room?”

Gaius gave him directions, and Bradley nodded. He was halfway down the hallway before he realized Colin was following him.

“No one will suspect anything,” Colin said. “After all, Merlin must attend Arthur at the end of every day. And you and I still need to talk.”

Bradley felt trepidation creep up his spine. “Of course.”

“I’m not mad – not anymore, not really,” Colin said. “But...there are things I’d like to know. Things I should have known years ago.”

“Of course,” Bradley said.

* * *

Merlin bit into his sandwich with a happy moan, which caused the girls to laugh.

Arthur looked torn between tearing into his own sandwich and playing with the magic light sphere Merlin had given him to hold.

“Eat already – you know what you’re like without food,” Merlin said. “I can always conjure another when you’re done.” But he felt oddly pleased at the pout that furrowed Arthur’s brow when he released the sphere and it dissolved into the air.

“This is so bizarre,” Katie said. “Every day I wake up and put on a pretty dress and pretend to be Lady Morgana, and I never thought she was real.”

“It is very odd,” Tony agreed. “The question is, are we acting out history, or does what we act become history?”

Angel arched an eyebrow. “You mean, if you’re nicer will Uther be nicer?”

Tony cast Merlin an apologetic look. “Er...yes.”

“Doubt that’d work,” Katie said. “It can’t be quite that simple. Just because we all look the same and have the same general storyline doesn’t mean the show is true word-for-word. After all, we have no clue what goes on between scenes and between episodes.”

Arthur glanced at Merlin. “Who else knows you have magic?” he asked quietly.

“My Mum, obviously. Gaius,” Merlin said.

“I suspected as much,” Arthur muttered.

Merlin raised his eyebrows. “Really, Sire?”

“Yes, really.”

Merlin continued to look skeptical.

Arthur elbowed him. “Go on. Who else?”

“Lancelot,” Merlin said.

Arthur paused. “Lancelot? Since when?”

“Since, er, I enchanted his lance so he could slay the gryphon,” Merlin said. “It’s why he didn’t want to stick around. He didn’t feel like he deserved the glory for what he’d done, you know?”

“He’s known for that long?” Arthur’s tone was odd, flat.

Merlin nodded. “Yes. He’s never said anything, though.”

“But...you didn’t tell him?” Arthur searched Merlin’s face.

“No. Gaius was furious. He’s always telling me to be more careful with my magic,” Merlin said. He shrugged. “Erm...Gwaine knows I have magic.”

“Did you tell him?” Arthur looked particularly annoyed at the notion.

“No.” Merlin snorted. “He sussed it out himself.”

“How?”

“He can do maths,” Merlin said flatly.

Arthur frowned thoughtfully as he chewed. Then he swallowed. “What does that mean?”

“At the bridge, on the way to the lands of the Fisher King,” Merlin said, “Grettir said the quest would require Courage, Strength, and Magic. When Gwaine and I showed up, he called us Strength and Magic. While I’m not as weak or stupid as I seem, I’m not so deluded as to think I could properly be called ‘Strength’. So if Gwaine was Strength, then I could only be...”

“Right.” Arthur frowned.

Merlin nudged his shoulder. “Don’t worry. Just because you didn’t suss it out doesn’t mean you’re stupid. You were distracted by Morgana’s evil bracelet and all.”

Arthur’s eyebrows went up. “Morgana’s what?”

“You know, the Eye of the Phoenix,” Merlin said.

“I’m sorry. What?” Arthur’s voice rose, which caused the other three to turn and look at him.

“Is everything all right?” Angel asked. “You’re not arguing again, are you?” She cast anxious looks at them.

Arthur turned to her. “Do you know about Morgana’s evil bracelet?”

“Oh, yes,” Katie said. “It was during episode eight, that big kingship quest of Arthur’s. The bracelet Morgana gave him for good luck was actually linked to a spell that was slowly draining his life force.”

“What?” Arthur’s eyes were wide, and he looked both shocked and angry.

Merlin patted his hand nervously. “See? You were dying. Of course you didn’t figure out Grettir’s riddle.”

Arthur turned to Angel. “You didn’t tell me about that.”

Angel shrugged helplessly. “Sorry. It’s just so hard to keep track of all the ways Merlin’s saved Arthur – er, you. I tried to remember all the important ones.”

“How did you explain it to him, exactly?” Tony asked.

“YouTube,” Angel said easily. “Fans made a montage of all the times Merlin’s saved Arthur.”

Merlin frowned, puzzled. “What’s YouTube?” He was slightly disturbed by the wicked grin that spread across Katie’s features.

“Oh, I’ll show you,” she said. “When I’m done, you’ll never be able to look at your king the same way again.”

“Leave off the _Rocky Horror_ , at least,” Tony said. “Don’t traumatize the poor lad for life.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “But let’s talk about the important things. Tomorrow, Jeremy’s going to send the ADs for all of us so filming can commence. Even if the electricity down at the caves is restored, they’ll find other work for us to do – they can’t afford too many setbacks because we’re on a tight schedule and budget.”

Merlin nodded. He wasn’t entirely sure what everything meant, but he did understand that Jeremy planned to have them all so ridiculously busy that they wouldn’t be able to fetch the shield and try to get home.

“How difficult will it be for us to be Bradley and Colin tomorrow?” Arthur asked.

Angel and Katie exchanged looks.

“It’ll be quite the task,” Katie said. “I mean, it won’t be difficult for you to be Merlin and Arthur, obviously, but –”

“But what?” Arthur asked.

“Filming is a long and repetitive process,” Katie said. “And it involves loads of things you’re not used to. We know who you are, but so many of the crew think you’re Bradley, and Merlin – you don’t sound like Colin at all.”

“What does Colin sound like?” Merlin asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Tony said. “The fact is we have to delay at least a day so we can help you find a way home. Is there any way to explain this to Johnny and the Julians?”

“They’d lock us up in Bedlam if we tried,” Katie said. Angel nodded her agreement. Merlin didn’t know what that meant, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t a good thing.

Tony scrubbed a hand over his face. “I was never any good at concocting devious plans. Usually it’s Bradley and Colin who can come up with these things.”

Angel sat up straighter. “It’s not as if we’ve never given them their comeuppance. We can think up something, can’t we Katie?”

The gleam in Katie’s eye was distressingly Morgana-like, from the days when she would goad Arthur into doing exactly what she wanted.

“We can. In the meantime, you lot should get to bed.” Katie rose up, collected Merlin and Arthur’s plates from them. “Arthur, you need to feign an illness. Tomorrow, when someone comes knocking on your door to tell you that you’re wanted on set, you must be as ill as possible.”

“Why Arthur?” Angel asked. “Bradley’s excellent at feigning ill, but Arthur would never feign ill. Would you?”

Arthur never had, not even as a child. Still, he was the prince, and he obviously felt responsible about getting himself and Merlin home safely, so he sat up straighter. “I could try. Unless it would be better for Merlin to –”

“No, Merlin can’t. It has to be Bradley because his stand-in is down with the flu, so they can’t shoot around him,” Katie said.

Merlin glanced at Arthur, confused, but Arthur just shook his head and watched the exchange between the other three. Merlin knew that look on his face; it was his _let’s face down an immortal army_ face.

Tony raised his eyebrows. “Why do you know these things?”

“I pay attention to the crew gossip,” Katie said breezily. “So you two should trot along to your rooms and then...stay up hideously late so you look terribly ill in the morning. Angel, Tony, and I will handle the rest.”

“We will?” Tony asked.

“We will,” Angel said firmly. She smiled sweetly and waved. “Good night, boys.”

Arthur rose up, and Merlin rose with him.

“Good night,” Merlin said.

“Thank you very much for your help,” Arthur said. “Camelot – and I – are most grateful for all you’re doing for us. If we can assist in any way –”

“Don’t worry, boys,” Katie said easily, which made Merlin worry all the more. “We’ve got it sorted.”

“It’s no problem,” Tony said, and ushered them to the door.

Merlin waved, and then the door closed.

Arthur looked at Merlin for a long time, then spun on his heel and strode toward Bradley’s rooms. He unlocked the door and let Merlin enter before him.

“Do you have anything else to tell me about your magic?” Arthur asked. “Any other times you’ve saved me? Did I even really kill that dragon?”

Merlin’s chest tightened. “Arthur, about the dragon...”

Arthur sat down on the bed and unlaced his shoes, tugged them off. “What about it?”

Merlin lowered his head. “I was the one who set the dragon free.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Merlin waited for the sound of ringing steel, for the press of the blade against his throat once more, but when Arthur spoke, he just sounded tired.

“Why?”

Merlin sat down on the bed beside him. “It’s a long story.”

Arthur jabbed him in the ribs sharply.

Merlin yelped and brought his hand to his side, lifted his head to shoot Arthur a glare. Physical violence was unnecessary at this point, and did Arthur still think that Merlin was incapable of defending himself? But Arthur was smiling, a ghost of his usual smile.

“That’s better,” he said.

“What’s better?” Merlin asked.

“You wouldn’t look at me,” Arthur said.

Merlin glanced down, then up again. “Oh.”

“So...” Arthur kicked off Bradley’s shoes, tugged off his socks. “You said it was a long story. If we want to go along with the others’ mad scheme, we have to stay up all night. By my estimation, all night is a pretty long time.”

Merlin pressed his lips into a thin line.

Arthur punched him lightly in the shoulder, then settled back against Bradley’s pillows. “Start from the beginning, then.”


	7. Chapter 7

“So,” Colin said, sitting down on the edge of Arthur’s bed. “You have magic.”

Bradley closed the door. “Yes. I do.”

“And you were born with it.”

“Yes, I was.”

“Just like Merlin.”

“Yes...and no.” Bradley remained standing by the door, watching Colin warily. “Like I said, my magic didn’t manifest until I was fifteen, and my mother had no way of knowing whether or not I had inherited any. I didn’t even know she had any until Steph manifested when I was nine, and that was when Dad...” Bradley really didn’t want to talk about that again. He and Steph had hashed it out enough times growing up, and then again when Bradley’s magic emerged, and they’d already said all that could be said about the whole thing. He shrugged out of Arthur’s jacket, laid it across the table. The steel bracers were a bit more difficult to manage on his own, and then Colin rose up.

“D’you need help with those?”

He sounded like Colin again, not Merlin.

Bradley sighed. “Please.”

They worked together in silence fraught with unease. Had anyone walked in on them, they would have seen Merlin dutifully attending to Arthur, but all Bradley knew was that he could barely talk to his best friend about one of the most important parts of his life.

Colin managed to work the buckle free, so he set to work on the other.

“So...if we’d never come here, you never would have told me about your magic?” Colin asked, his voice deceptively casual. He was still bent over Bradley’s wrist, and Bradley was absolutely pants at reading people whose faces he couldn’t see.

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “I can’t imagine that I’d ever have occasion for some fanfiction-like heroic reveal, where I save you from imminent doom with my magic and then you have to accept that I have it. My magic’s not like that. Mum sent me to cabal training so I’d learn control, if nothing else.”

“Cabal?” Colin asked.

“A cabal is a group of Mages who work together, often as a task force for their given Chantry or, if they’re interdisciplinary, for the Council of Nine,” Bradley recited dutifully and felt like he was fifteen all over again and could barely believe the words coming out of his mouth. “A cabal often trains together, and its members come to see each other as siblings.” He smiled faintly. “When I first found out I’d won the part of Arthur, I called my sister, and then my mum, and then I called my cabal siblings, and they were all so sad that I hadn’t been cast as Merlin, because that would have been perfect, wouldn’t it?”

Colin finished unfastening the other gauntlet and stepped back. He lifted his head. “So...these cabal siblings of yours are your closest friends? Not your footie mates or your friends from drama school?” The friends he’d met, he meant.

“I’m closer to some than others,” Bradley said. “Most of them started training a few years before me, so they were much more adept at magic by the time I came along, and I was a bit of an outsider. I can’t say that we all like each other, but we...have each other’s backs.”

“Have each other’s backs. From people like me, who don’t know and then turn you away when we find out?” Colin asked.

Bradley looked up, caught his gaze. “Are you turning me away?”

“What? No – that came out wrong. I’m sorry.” Colin raked a hand through his hair. “I’m just trying to understand why you never told me, why you would possibly think I’d do that to you.” He sat back down on the edge of the bed again.

Bradley sat beside him and attempted to tug off his boots. Back home, one of the costume mistresses usually had to help him with them. Why he thought he could do it alone here, he wasn’t sure, but he set to tugging anyway. It didn’t seem like he’d be walking around barefoot anytime soon.

“Bradley?” Colin asked.

Bradley sighed and gave up on the boot. “What was I supposed to think? My own father couldn’t deal with it. We’re his flesh and blood, Steph and I, and he turned us away, told us we were unnatural. Why would anyone else who has even less of a reason to care for us stick around after they found out?” He closed his eyes and forced himself to take a few deep breaths. He wasn’t going to cry. Not over this. He’d promised himself – not since his father left.

“So you would just live your whole life lying to everyone you ever cared about until you absolutely had to confess, like your mum did?” Colin asked.

“No. Most Mages marry other Mages,” Bradley said. “It keeps the magic strong, makes for better-prepared Mages right after Awakening. But Mum – she was never very strong, and neither am I. As long as we can control our magic, we can live like Sleepers. Steph was a fluke, like Aunt Sarah. Ridiculously powerful. And...so Dad found out.”

Colin was quiet for a long time. Bradley contemplated his awful boots and wished that this whole mess had never happened. In response, the Tapestry thrummed, and he flinched, pulled his magic closer around him, wary. Had his wishing brought him here? But he’d never wished Colin knew, never wished anyone knew, and he’d long stopped hoping his father would change his mind.

“So you never would have told me?” Colin said finally.

“I don’t know,” Bradley said again, and it was the honest truth. “I tried, sometimes, I think – like with the tea, and that glass of wine, and the time it took me five tries to blow out my birthday candles, but you always just smiled your smile, like you never noticed anything was amiss, and I told myself, _he doesn’t want to see it, so I’ll never show him._ ”

“Haven’t I always said it would be so much fun to have Merlin’s power?” Colin asked. He peered at Bradley, searching, and there was raw hurt shining in his eyes.

“Yes, well, I don’t have anything close to Merlin’s power,” Bradley said.

“So you keep saying.” Colin wrapped his arms around himself and shivered. “Castles are bloody cold. Why would anyone want to live in one?”

“I’ll see if I can start a fire,” Bradley said, and rose up, resigned to sleeping with the stupid boots on.

Colin put a hand on his arm. “See if you can start it from here.”

Bradley paused, looked down at Colin’s hand. “What?”

Colin met his gaze calmly. “You said magic here was easier. See if you can’t do something bigger.”

“Magic here is bigger, but that means, consequently, that Paradoxical reactions can be bigger,” Bradley said.

“If you turn green, Gaius can tell everyone you’re ill,” Colin said, and his tone was light, and Bradley felt warmth flood his limbs. Colin was _trying_ to understand.

“It’s not just green skin,” Bradley said, but he wasn’t going to tell Colin about the time paradox had backlashed so hard it gave him bunny ears. He wasn’t going to tell Colin about that _ever_. “But...if this goes badly and Uther finds out, I’m so blaming Merlin.”

“Fine.” Colin smiled.

Bradley nodded and turned toward the fireplace. Then he stretched out one hand, closed his eyes, and turned Arthur’s ring once, twice, thrice.

Flames exploded in the fireplace with a _whump!_ Bradley’s eyes flew open, and he immediately flung himself in front of Colin, one arm up in an ineffectual shield, but then the flames settled, and a fire was crackling merrily in the hearth.

“That’s a pretty good trick,” Colin said.

“Thanks,” Bradley said faintly, awed at the magic he’d just performed. Around him, the Tapestry thrummed, and if it were a person, Bradley would have said it was pleased. He and Colin sat and gazed at the flames, drinking in the warmth.

Eventually Colin said, “I suppose I should go back to Merlin’s room.”

“It might be a bit suspicious of you stayed,” Bradley said. Then he frowned thoughtfully. “Or maybe not. Traditionally, I think, manservants stayed in an anteroom just off their master’s chambers so they could be handy for whatever ridiculousness their master might want in the middle of the night.”

Colin raised an eyebrow. “You know that sounds...?”

“I meant like midnight snacks and stoking the fire and the like.” Bradley rolled his eyes.

“I’m assuming Merlin never gave into that sort of thing just to defy Arthur,” Colin said.

“Or maybe he just doesn’t know better, and Arthur never saw fit to correct him,” Bradley said. “For all that Arthur calls Merlin a terrible servant, let’s be honest – Merlin never really had an opportunity to learn what it is castle servants do.”

“If I stayed here, would poor Merlin be stuck with the consequences?”

“Just one night couldn’t hurt,” Bradley said. “Besides, I’m guessing Arthur’s bed is much more comfortable than Merlin’s, and the girls on the crew would have my head if I let something terrible happen to your delicate self.”

Colin shoved him in the shoulder. “I am not delicate.”

“The camera puts ten pounds on a person and you still look like one good sneeze would blow you over,” Bradley said. “Come on – we can sleep tip to tail, like manly men.”

“And you promise you won’t shove your feet in my face?” Colin asked.

“I promise,” Bradley said, “especially since I may very well be sleeping in these boots.”

It was Colin’s turn to roll his eyes. “I’ll help you off with them.”

“Thanks. I don’t mean to treat you the way Arthur treats Merlin,” Bradley said.

“I know.” Colin slid off the bed and knelt at Bradley’s feet, started tugging on one of the boots. Bradley did his best to help by tugging himself in the opposite direction. “Just...we’ve both been in character for almost two days straight. And these boots are pretty ridiculous.”

The first boot finally slid off and sent both men tumbling back in opposite directions, which caused them to laugh. They righted themselves and Colin started in on the other boot.

“I reckon there’s loads about your magic that you haven’t explained yet, and me trying to learn it now would probably break me,” Colin said, “but...is there anything else you think I need to know? Like...if you get really angry, will windows rattle or anything?”

“I keep telling you, I’m really not that powerful,” Bradley said. “When I get angry I just get red in the face, same as everyone else.”

“Right.”

“But...you were wrong, earlier.”

Colin paused in his tugging and looked up. “About what?”

“About why we have each other’s backs in a cabal,” Bradley said.

“Oh?” Colin resumed tugging. “What did you mean?”

“When I said people wouldn’t kill me because I’m a Mage, I wasn’t entirely accurate. There are no laws against magic, obviously, so I don’t live in daily fear like poor Merlin does, but the Technocracy is pretty set to have us all destroyed. It’s another reason we don’t tell Sleepers – they go mad, they go round the pub and get drunk and sob out their life story to their bartender, word gets back to the Technocracy, and we get snuffed in our sleep,” Bradley said. He tried to keep his tone light, to keep the grimness of the situation at bay, but Colin’s grip went abruptly slack, and Bradley, who had been counter-tugging to assist with the boot removal, went flying off the other side of the bed.

“You mean people are trying to kill you?” Colin demanded.

Bradley had to take a few seconds to remember which way was up and which way was down, and then he hauled himself to his feet. He still had one boot on. “A little warning would have been nice.”

“You just said –”

“They’re not trying to kill me specifically. Just...all Mages in general. So if one of us gets cornered by a Technocrat, the rest of us have her back,” Bradley said. “It’s a common courtesy.” He didn’t tell Colin about being seventeen and tearing through the alleys and streets of Hastings, fleeing two grim-looking suit-clad men with guns who had seen six teenagers making hermit crabs glow down on the seashore.

Colin stared at him.

Bradley began, “Er, the Technocracy is –”

“Has anyone ever tried to kill you?” Colin asked.

Bradley shrugged.

Colin’s eyebrows climbed toward his hairline. “Bradley...”

“Three or four times. Only one of those times was my fault,” Bradley said quickly. “Look, Colin, it’s not a big deal. My cabal siblings are really talented, and we’ve never been in very serious danger.” He sat down on the edge of the bed and attempted to wriggle out of the boot by himself. “It’s just one more reason we don’t tell Sleepers. So they don’t actually don’t sell us down the river...or become targets themselves.”

“Not a big deal? Bradley, people want you dead,” Colin said. He reached out and tugged Bradley’s boot off the rest of the way. “How can you make light of this sort of situation?”

“ _We’re not gonna live in fear,_ ” Bradley said softly.

“Oh, Bradley.” Colin sat beside him. “And if you told me, there was a chance I’d become a target?”

“There’s always a chance,” Bradley said.

Colin sighed. “Are you sure you want to go home?”

“Absolutely sure.” Bradley smiled tentatively at him. “If you’re feeling brave, I’ll introduce you round to my cabal. You can see the amazing things they can do with their magic.”

“What, is that like taking a girl home to meet your parents?”

“No,” Bradley said, “I’ve never let a girl meet my cabal.”

Colin blinked. “Oh. Look, Bradley, don’t feel obligated –”

“You’re tougher than you look, you know,” Bradley said. “I’ve seen you hold your own against Neil. I reckon you’d be good to have at my back in a fight.”

“Thanks,” Colin said softly.

They sat looking at each other before Bradley stood up and said, “Right, let’s get me out of this armor before someone catches us mooning at each other like a pair of girls.”

Colin laughed and stood to help him.

* * *

Arthur glanced down at the foot of the bed where Merlin was sitting. “You released the dragon, so I should have you in the stocks for that, and you released the goblin, so I should have you in the stocks for that. But you saved me from Valiant, the afanc, Sophia, the Questing Beast, Myror the assassin, a fire spell by Morgause, and Morgana’s evil bracelet. You saved Gwen from my father, and you saved Camelot from a dead sorcerer, from a dragon, from an undead army controlled by Morgause, from an undead army controlled by Morgana, from an angry Sidhe elder who wanted me in a loveless marriage, and from an immortal army controlled by Morgause and Morgana together. So...my kingdom, my father, and I owe you our lives several times over. Minus the lives lost by the release of the dragon.”

Merlin flinched. “Arthur, I didn’t do any of that so you would owe me.”

“You did it all because a dragon told you to.” Arthur sounded eerily calm; he was taking this much too well as far as Merlin was concerned, and any moment now the other shoe was going to drop.

“He didn’t tell me to do those things specifically. He just said it was your destiny to unite all of Albion and it was my destiny to help you.” Merlin peered up at Arthur hopefully. Both of them were exhausted, and Merlin’s mouth was dry from answering all of Arthur’s questions about the things he’d done with his magic over the years (“You used your magic on my _armor_?” “You were the one who complimented me on how well it shone when I was done!”) and they still had two hours to go before the sun rose.

“And it was your goal in life to become servant to the king?” Arthur asked.

“No,” Merlin said. He sat up straighter, shook himself out to stave off the stiffness from sitting still for so long. “When I first came to Camelot, I wanted to see the world, learn new things, help people like Gaius does. I didn’t want a grand destiny.”

“So all those times you said you knew I would become a great king –”

“I knew it,” Merlin said earnestly.

“But not because you believed in me – because the dragon told you so,” Arthur said flatly.

Merlin flinched again. He looked at Arthur, and Arthur actually averted his gaze.

“No,” Merlin said. “Not because the dragon told me.”

Arthur’s gaze flicked back to him.

“Because you risked your life to find a flower for me, and you helped me defend my home village. Because you didn’t reveal yourself at the tournament, and you knighted Gwaine, Lancelot, Elyan, and Percival.” Merlin leaned in, expression earnest. “When the dragon first told me that you would be a great king, I didn’t believe him, but you – _you_ made me believe him. Understand?”

Arthur gazed at him for a long moment. “Lancelot was right, you know,” Arthur said.

“Right about what?”

“You’re the bravest of us all.” And Arthur smiled. “But he was wrong about me knighting you. You’re absolutely terrible with a sword.”

“How do you know what Lancelot said to me?” Merlin asked.

“Said to you when?” Arthur raised his eyebrows.

“That night we were sleeping in the chamber with the Round Table. We were whispering together in the darkness,” Merlin said.

Arthur raised his eyebrows further. “Oh really?”

“It wasn’t like that, you prat.”

“What was it like, then?”

“It was just a friendly conversation –”

“Which I might have overheard.”

“You were asleep,” Merlin said. He was sure of it. He was very experienced in the art of detecting Arthur’s genuine unconsciousness, especially related to covert use of magic.

“Maybe,” Arthur said. “Or maybe Lancelot approached me with a ridiculous question about why I didn’t knight your skinny arse –”

Merlin flung a pillow at him. Arthur dodged and laughed, then flung a pillow back.

“D’you remember the look on your father’s face when he walked in and saw that you’d flung a pillow at me?” Merlin asked.

“It was classic,” Arthur said. “I wanted to laugh, but I think he’d have had my head.”

“It’s still not as good as the time your father was bald,” Merlin said.

Arthur’s eyes narrowed. “If you say one word about those donkey ears –”

“I’ll bet Katie would let me see them on YouTube,” Merlin said. “I never did get to see them in person.”

“You wouldn’t.”

Merlin sat up straighter and grinned. “I would totally ask her.”

Arthur opened his mouth to protest further, but then he sat back, and his expression sobered. “Angel, she showed me that conversation you had with Gilli.”

Unease prickled down Merlin’s spine. “Which conversation?”

“Do you really feel like a shadow in your own life?” Arthur asked.

“Sometimes.” Merlin shrugged. “You know how you feel trapped, all the time, about being the prince? About duty and honor and nobility and how you can never just be...Arthur?”

He nodded.

“That’s how I feel. I can never just be me.” Merlin reached out, poked Arthur in the shoulder. “Don’t worry. It’s not like that all the time. Usually I’m too busy running after you to think about – that.”

Arthur nodded and stared down at his hands for a long moment. Then he said, “Merlin, I’m worried. About tomorrow. Today. Whenever it is. Angel and Katie and Tony seem like nice people, but these are our lives we’re talking about, and the fate of our kingdom. I wish there was something we could do.”

Merlin scooted closer. “One day you’re going to be a great king, Arthur. Part of that means learning to trust those around you to do what they must. You trust Leon to lead the knights in your absence, and you trust Gwaine will have your back in a fight, right? We can trust them. I know we can.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Arthur said. “You’ve always known who to trust. When people around me were evil, like Sophia and Cedric and Morgana, I never knew.”

“Then I suppose it’s a good thing I’ll be sticking around to weed out the untrustworthy ones.” Merlin smiled.

Arthur nodded. “When you told me you had magic, I thought that...I was afraid that, of all the people I’d trusted, I wouldn’t be able to trust you anymore, and after Morgana, who would I have left?”

Guilt twisted in Merlin’s chest. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean –”

“I know,” Arthur said. “You don’t have to apologize anymore. Just help us get where we’re going.”

“Home,” Merlin agreed. He yawned. “D’you think we can sleep at least a bit?”

“I suppose.” Arthur peered out the window. “Sun will be up soon, though. Remember, you don’t sound like Colin, so let me do all the talking.”

“Yes, Sire.” Merlin stood up, stretched. “I’m going to sleep on Colin’s bed. I suspect it’s much more comfortable than my own.”

“You know,” Arthur said, “the pallet in the antechamber to my rooms is surprisingly comfortable.”

“So you can send me down to the kitchens for hot tea in the middle of the night when you feel poorly? Not a chance.” Merlin headed for the adjoining door, kicking off Colin’s shoes as he went.

“You’d be safe in there,” Arthur said. “Whenever a search for a sorcerer was conducted, they’d never search my rooms, not like they would Gaius’s. If you had any magical...gear, it would be safe there.”

Merlin paused. “Oh. I – I’ll think about it. When we get home.” Then he threw himself down on Colin’s bed and closed his eyes.

Thirty seconds later, someone knocked on the door. And then someone knocked on Bradley’s.

Merlin groaned and buried his head under the pillow.

A woman said, “Colin, luv, come on - Jeremy’s calling.”


	8. Chapter 8

Bradley came awake sharply when someone knocked on the door.

“Arthur?” Angel asked. The door eased open slightly.

Bradley blinked, momentarily confused, because the sun was streaming in at the wrong angle, and his bed at the hotel was hardly this lumpy, and there was a bare foot in his face. Bradley craned his neck; Colin was curled up asleep beside him, head at the foot of the bed.

And he was in Arthur’s chamber.

Bradley swore and hoisted himself up into a sitting position, glad that he was actually wearing a shirt for once.

“Colin, Colin, wake up, but don’t say anything.” He nudged Colin with his knee.

Colin’s response was to mumble sleepily and bat Bradley’s knee aside and then burrow back down into his pillow.

“Sire, I couldn’t find Merlin, so the cook asked me to bring you your breakfast,” Angel said, only she wasn’t Angel, she was Gwen, the real Guinevere, the future Mrs. Pendragon, and she was standing in the doorway with a tray of food and a hopeful smile that was rapidly dissolving as she took in the scene before her.

“That was very thoughtful of you, Gwen,” Bradley said, scrambling to tug Arthur’s character into place. First thing in the morning with no lines memorized and no sense of scene or character made improvising a feat and a half. Bradley nudged Colin again and said, “Especially since my idiot of a manservant couldn’t be bothered to remove himself to his own bed after our council meeting.”

“Good morning, Merlin,” Gwen said flatly. Given how the knights treated Colin-as-Merlin so compassionately, Bradley was surprised at Gwen’s ill reception of him. Unless she was annoyed about having to do his job? She set the tray down on the table and moved toward the fire to stoke it, then paused and stepped back.

Bradley craned his neck and saw that the fire was still crackling merrily in the hearth and hadn’t diminished in the night at all. He resisted the urge to pat himself down and check for extraneous or animal features, and he saw Gwen looking at him oddly.

Colin, who’d stirred at the sound of a familiar voice, sat up and rubbed his face.

“G’morning, Angel,” he said, and it was with his Northern Irish brogue.

Gwen cast him a confused and annoyed look. “I can bring some food up for you as well if you like. Cook has some excellent ham and cheese –”

“Just...bread. And some fruit. For Merlin,” Bradley said, emphasizing the _Merlin_ and actually kicking Colin a bit this time.

Colin’s eyes went wide, and he looked down at himself – at the fact that he was still in costume – and then at Gwen. Most mornings he had to work himself into Merlin’s accent, but he had to perform, and he had to do it now.

Gwen cast Bradley a particularly disapproving look. “Just bread and fruit for Merlin, Sire?”

Bradley heard the weight in that honorific and winced. “Yes, just bread and fruit. He’s been feeling a bit ill lately, and it’s put him off heavier food. Hasn’t it, Merlin?”

Colin bobbed his head in agreement and scrubbed a hand over his hair.

“Of course. Bread and fruit it is, then,” Gwen said. “Is everything all right, Merlin?”

Colin cast Bradley a pleading look and shook his head slightly – he wasn’t ready yet.

“Everything is fine,” Bradley said. “We were just up rather late discussing strategies. For when Morgana and Morgause arrive.”

“Merlin can speak for himself, Sire,” Gwen said sharply, and she stepped closer to the bed. “Merlin, are you feeling all right?”

“He also has a bit of a sore throat,” Bradley said. “Some medicinal tea from Gaius would be helpful, or maybe just some regular tea with a dash of honey.”

Gwen ignored him and peered at Colin. “What’s the matter? Were you injured out there in the woods?”

Colin shook his head quickly and rubbed at his throat for good measure, faked a cough. “Just...feeling a bit under the weather.” With him trying to force up an English accent, his voice came out strangled.

“I see,” Gwen said, and her expression turned sympathetic. “A late night can’t have helped. I’ll bring you some breakfast.” She turned and headed for the door and came up short when Lancelot appeared.

Lancelot’s eyes went wide for a second, and Bradley saw his features soften, but then Lancelot met his gaze and all traces of emotion were swept away.

“Sire, the King has summoned you for an audience,” Lancelot said. He glanced at Colin, where he and Bradley were facing each other on the bed, and he raised his eyebrows ever so slightly, and everything clicked into place for Bradley. He resisted the urge to groan. Not only did fans think Arthur and Merlin were shagging, but castle residents thought so too? Drat.

Lancelot bowed at Gwen and said, “My Lady,” before he turned and walked away sharply.

Bradley climbed to his feet and drew himself up the way he knew Arthur would have. “Thank you for bringing my breakfast, Gwen,” he said, “and thank you for showing concern for Merlin.”

“Of course, My Lord,” Gwen said, and bobbed a curtsy. “Friends are always concerned for each other’s welfare.” The reproach in her voice was obvious; she thought Arthur was overworking poor Merlin again. “I’ll be back soon, Merlin,” she added, and left the room in a whispering of skirts.

“She sounded annoyed,” Colin said. “Do you think she was suspicious?”

“No,” Bradley said. “She just thinks Arthur’s been picking on Merlin again.” He yawned and stretched. “I’d give my arm for a toothbrush and a long, hot shower. I guess I’ll have to settle for some clean clothes, and you – you’d better get dressed soon too. I’m pretty sure if I have to go face down Uther, he’ll expect to see you trailing along behind me.”

Colin nodded, and then he began speaking under his breath, shaping his mouth around tongue twisters and long strings of words so that he could sound properly like Merlin. Bradley opened Arthur’s wardrobe and stared at the selection of clothes, tried to remember what ensembles Charlotte had picked out for him. He could dress himself, so he set about attempting to make himself look princely without tangling up the complicated sets of laces (maybe there was a reason Arthur needed help most days).

“So should I follow you to the Council Chamber?” Colin asked, and he sounded like Merlin.

“Yes,” Bradley said, then, “No. Go check in with Gaius and find out what he knows, and get some clean clothes while you’re at it. Then meet me after my audience with Uther.”

Colin nodded. “Don’t you have to train the knights?”

No. Arthur did. He trained the knights every day, as he was a knight himself. Bradley was nothing of the sort.

“I will speak to Sir Leon and have him oversee training,” Bradley said. “We need to work out how to get home. Don’t forget Gwen’s bringing your breakfast. I’m off to see Uther.”

“You should comb your hair before you go,” Colin said.

Bradley reached up and attempted to flatten his hair with his hand. “I’m pretty sure when Uther summons Arthur he expects a certain degree of promptness. Will you be all right on your own?”

“I’m safer than you are,” Colin said. “I’m not the one with –”

“Best not say it aloud,” Bradley said quickly, darting a glance at the door that was still ajar, and Colin nodded. “Right. I’m off. Er...d’you remember which way it is to the Council Chambers?”

* * *

“Come on, Colin,” the woman said, and Merlin groaned.

The knock sounded again from Arthur’s side of the rooms, and another woman said, “Bradley, get out of bed already. Charlotte wanted your arse in a make-up chair half an hour ago.”

Merlin groaned again.

“Colin, dear, are you all right?” the woman outside his door asked, and Merlin was surprised at her sympathy. He opened his mouth to answer, but then he remembered – he didn’t sound anything like Colin.

He was saved from having to fake his way through a disaster when Arthur hauled himself out of bed – why did Arthur never do that back home? – and opened the door.

“Finally,” the woman said, and cut herself off. “Bradley, you look like hell. What happened?”

“I think I’m ill,” Arthur said, with the stiff unease of someone unused to this sort of deception.

“There’s something going around set. Please tell me you didn’t get it from your stand-in,” the woman said. Merlin watched in amazement as she stepped closer to Arthur and reached toward him.

He jerked back instinctively, his eyes wide with alarm. People didn’t go around touching the prince.

“Let me see if you’re running a fever,” the woman said and reached for Arthur again, but he shook his head.

The knock sounded at Colin’s door again. “Colin, are you awake?”

“He’s ill too,” Arthur said. “I heard him coughing all night.”

“Poor lamb. Colin, let me in so I can have a look at you,” the woman cooed.

Merlin answered the door warily and could only let out a small sound of alarm as the woman pounced on him. She patted him down, checked his forehead, prodded his throat beneath his jaw, peered into his eyes, and checked his teeth all before he could utter a word. When she was done, she patted his shoulder gently.

“You look awful, sweet. Let me go fetch you some hot tea and I’ll tell Jeremy you’re ill.”

Merlin could only nod helplessly, overwhelmed by the attention. When he was a child, his mum had fussed over him plenty, but once he made friends with Will he learned that boys had to be tough and withstand pain, walk it off or work it off or sleep it off, and around the castle no one fussed over him, not really.

Arthur looked half-amused, half-bereft at watching Merlin get fussed over. Merlin could only shrug helplessly as the other woman who’d been sent to wake Bradley crossed the rooms to fuss at Merlin as well.

“They must have given it to each other,” the first woman said. “I’ll check and see if Colin’s stand-in is ready to go.”

“Bradley’s stand-in is down ill,” the second woman said. “Let’s call Jeremy and see what gives.”

Katie chose that moment to arrive, and she was grinning like the cat who’d had the canary. “Bradley, Colin – both of you look absolutely terrible!”

“Thanks,” Arthur said flatly.

“I have good news, though. Well, mixed new. Jeremy’s come down with a really nasty stomach flu and is out for the morning, so we have the morning off,” Katie said.

Merlin raised his eyebrows, alarmed. Had Katie and the others poisoned Jeremy?

The other two women made sounds of surprise and began questioning Katie extensively, who answered with a simple story about a telephone call first thing from Jeremy’s assistant and how there were still electrical delays down at the cave anyway.

“You two ought to go back to sleep and do your best to recover,” the second woman said to Merlin and propelled him back toward Colin’s bed.

Arthur marched back toward Bradley’s bed before the first woman could touch him and sat down stiffly.

“You’d best keep away,” the first woman said to Katie. “Obviously it’s contagious, as they’ve infected each other.”

“Of course,” Katie said, and as soon as both women had their backs turned, she winked, then walked away.

Merlin jumped up and closed the door immediately, then hurried to Arthur’s side. “What do we do now?”

“We wait for the others to return, I expect. Help me find some clean clothes.” Now that they were alone, Arthur seemed more comfortable, and he stood up, surveying Bradley’s room like a king surveying a battlefield. Merlin eyed the piles of clothes.

“I don’t think any of them are clean.” He went back into Colin’s room and opened the wardrobe, and there he found more tunics and trousers. “Colin has clean clothes in the wardrobe. See if Bradley does.” Merlin fetched some of Colin’s clean clothes and trotted back into Bradley’s room to help Arthur.

As Merlin suspected, the wardrobe was empty, so they resorted to sifting through the piles of clothes to search for something that looked vaguely clean, but it was all wrinkled, and Merlin wasn’t about to sniff-check a stranger’s clothes.

“I don’t think you’ll fit any of Colin’s clothes,” Merlin said. He held up a tunic and examined it critically. Finally, he sighed and muttered a spell, waved a hand over the tunic, and it was clean and wrinkle-free. “Here. Just – take this one.” He held the tunic out and saw Arthur frozen in the doorway, his eyes dark and his expression alarmed.

“The tunic is fine,” Merlin said cautiously. “It was just a spell to make it clean. I swear. Nothing dangerous –”

And then Arthur narrowed his eyes. “Is that how you do all your chores?”

“What? No,” Merlin said quickly. “Obviously not – someone would notice. Sometimes, of course, you assign me more chores than are humanly possible for one person, and you fuss when I don’t get it all done, so I might use a bit of magic. But no, for the most part I do my chores by hand.”

“You could have done that sooner,” Arthur said finally and stripped off his dirty tunic, tugged on the clean one Merlin was holding out. “See if you can’t find a pair of clean trousers as well.”

“All right,” Merlin said, still hesitant, and spelled a pair of trousers clean.

When they were both in clean clothes, Merlin was at a loss as to what to do next. He hovered beside Arthur where he was checking over his sword. He’d felt Arthur casting curious glances at him while they changed.

Finally, Arthur said, “I suppose it never occurred to me that people might use magic for...ordinary things. Like laundry.”

“Magic is like any skill, I suppose,” Merlin said. “Some men use their strength for ploughing a field, and others use it for wielding a sword.”

“Magic is different from strength,” Arthur said. “With magic, you can do things that no man should be able to do.”

“And yet plenty of men – and women – do them.” Merlin looked at Arthur.

Arthur looked back at him. They said nothing for a long stretch.

“Here, magic is...everywhere. People use it for everything – to talk to each other, to light rooms, to get from place to place. And it doesn’t seem malicious, but...isn’t it wrong, to be so lazy?”

“They don’t seem lazy,” Merlin said. He hesitated, then said, “Arthur, all the strange things we’ve seen – they’re not magic.”

“What makes you say that?”

“This world – magic is dead here. I don’t think very many people have magic at all – with all the people we’ve met, I haven’t sensed a single one with magic. And when we were out in the forest, I couldn’t feel magic there like I usually can,” Merlin said.

Arthur raised his eyebrows. “You can feel magic?”

“Sometimes,” Merlin said. “More than before, since I started using my magic for bigger things.”

“Like ordering around a dragon,” Arthur said.

“Yeah.”

There was a knock at the door.

“Arthur, Merlin, it’s Angel! Come on. We have to make a dash for it while we can.”

Arthur scooped up his sword and strode toward the door. Angel grinned at him and beckoned, and Arthur glanced over his shoulder. Merlin knew that look well enough, and he followed obediently.

They convened in Tony’s room where he was speaking on one of the voice transmission devices.

“Yes, yes, of course. We understand. Tell Jeremy we hope he feels better soon,” Tony said. He nodded at Arthur and Merlin. Katie was sitting at the table with several plates of food in front of her.

“Eat, both of you, please,” she said.

“Thank you,” Arthur said, all stiff formality.

“You both do look exhausted,” Angel said. “We slipped something into Jeremy’s morning coffee, so he’ll be out of commission for a few hours while we try to do some research and see about sending you two home.”

“Something in Jeremy’s drink?” Merlin asked, alarmed. “Like a sleeping potion?”

“No,” Katie said. When Merlin continued to look alarmed, she added, “It wasn’t roofies, either.”

“What’s ‘roofies’?”

“Never mind,” Katie said. “Let’s just say we slipped him something harmless but unpleasant and leave it at that.” Angel made a face, and Merlin could only guess at what Jeremy was suffering.

“All right,” Merlin said, and he let the issue drop.

“What can we do to help?” Arthur asked. He sat down opposite Katie, and after a moment Merlin followed. He’d eaten at Arthur’s table before, in his private rooms, but he’d never dined with Morgana or Uther, and while Katie and Tony were not actually the Ward and the King, Merlin felt uneasy all the same.

Angel shrugged. “How much do you know about magic? I mean, Merlin obviously knows loads, but...”

Arthur nodded, tight-jawed, and began cutting neatly at his bacon and toast.

“I don’t have access to my magic book,” Merlin said, “and it’s not as if I can ask Kilgarrah.”

Arthur raised his eyebrows. “Who?”

“Er...the Great Dragon.”

“It has a name?”

“Yes,” Merlin said, a little indignantly.

“And you just...ask him for help?”

“Yes. I did it before I inherited the powers of a Dragonlord. And he helped me. For a price.” Merlin lowered his gaze and heard Arthur sigh.

Tony finished his bizarre half-conversation and came to stand beside the table. “So far my plan is to call up the hired bookworm the producers have who writes all the spells and see about having him or her write a spell to help you get home. The particulars, of course, will be difficult, such as whether any ritual components will be included, but it’s a pretty solid plan, I think.”

Merlin nodded, mind whirring. “Yesterday you seemed very surprised that I have magic. Is magic very rare here?”

“Merlin,” Katie said gently, “in our world, no one has magic at all. Magic is just something from children’s stories.”

“But Tony just said you know someone who creates spells –”

“I wouldn’t say he creates spells,” Tony said. “Mostly we need words that sound magic-like, and we use an ancient language, so we need a scholar who knows that language to write the words Colin uses as spells.”

“Oh.” Merlin blinked, confused. “Then no one here has magic?”

Angel shook her head. “No. Not at all. In our world, people don’t think magic is even real.” Then her eyes went wide, and she stammered, Gwen-like, “Not that I’m saying magic isn’t real, obviously. I mean – you’re here. Just...we don’t encounter magical situations, erm, ever.”

Merlin looked up at Tony. “But yesterday, you figured out that I used wish magic.”

“That was based on what we know from fantasy stories where we pretend magic is real,” Tony said.

Katie frowned thoughtfully. “Tony, you spent years playing on Buffy where witches and magic abounded. Would any of those principles apply to this situation?”

“Most of Willow’s Wicca magic was theurgistic, while I would say Merlin’s magic is a rather inconsistent blend of rule magic and inherent gifts,” Tony said, “so most of what Willow did wouldn’t really apply here.”

Arthur ate quickly and quietly; Merlin could tell he was distinctly unnerved by the casual discussion of magic, especially by a man who looked and sounded just like his father.

“Is there anything we can do to help? Anything at all?” Merlin asked.

“Apart from waiting for the spell writer to get back to us, not really,” Tony said.

Merlin nodded. He glanced at Arthur, who was gazing fixedly at his plate.

“Then do you mind if Arthur and I look around?”

“Look around where?” Angel asked.

Merlin glanced at Arthur again, who glanced back at him briefly. “Just...the town. After all, if Jeremy is ill, he won’t be needing us, and I suspect Arthur and I will just get in your way with our questions. Unless you have more questions of us?”

Arthur’s grip on his fork was dangerously white-knuckled, and his other hand slid toward the pommel of his sword.

“We’ve established that you arrived here as a result of wish-magic, and your wish has essentially been fulfilled,” Tony said. “From there, I honestly don’t know what to do. I mean...how does your magic work, exactly?”

Merlin shrugged. “When I was younger, it more or less did whatever I wanted it to. I never learnt any spells. I just thought, and if I was hungry in mid-winter, an apple or two would grow on the apple tree just for me and my mum. Trying to remember spells makes it all a bit more complicated. Now, if I can’t remember the right spell, sometimes my magic doesn’t do what I want it to do. And here, in your world, magic is more difficult. My magic resists me here.” He fell silent and noticed Arthur looking at him oddly.

“Maybe a day off would be nice,” Angel said brightly.

“Off?” Arthur echoed.

Angel nodded. “You know...like a holiday. You don’t have to be a prince, Merlin doesn’t have to be your servant or try to save you from whatever. You could just go round and have fun.”

Arthur looked faintly stunned at the notion. “One does not simply cease being a prince –”

“Think about it,” Katie said. “You wouldn’t have to flee your duty and find a farm and make Merlin farm it for you while you make cow eyes at Gwen. It’d be for a day, and when you got back, we’d be one step closer to a solution.”

At the mention of a farm and Gwen, Arthur actually blushed, and Merlin squawked.

“Why would I have to farm for you?” Merlin asked, and Katie giggled behind her hand.

“Right. You never heard that conversation,” she said, but Arthur shook his head quickly.

“Your suggestion actually has merit,” he said, nodding at Angel. “But I cannot, in good conscience, leave you to sort this out on your own. Merlin and I came here, and we must find our own way home.”

“Your father seems to have no problem with letting other people sort things out while the knights run around looking for...nothing in particular whenever sorcery is the cause of a problem,” Katie said. “Think of it as delegating. Kings delegate, don’t they? It’s good practice. Who was running the kingdom when Uther was gallivanting through the woods with Lady Catrina, after all?”

Merlin and Arthur both winced at the reminder of the troll who was briefly queen.

“So, yeah,” Angel said brightly. “Go explore the town. Eat ice cream and watch a film and fly a kite or whatever it is princes and their wizards do on their days off.”

Merlin nodded. “All right. What should I do with my plate?”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ve got it,” Katie said, and Merlin was unsure, because he could never imagine Morgana doing her own dishes, but Katie wasn’t Morgana.

“Before you go, you ought to learn how to use a mobile,” Tony said.

“Mobile?” Merlin asked.

Tony held up a slim black device. “Bradley and Colin both have one of these. So we can communicate over long distances. If we find something important or have a question, we can speak to each other immediately.”

“Excellent,” Arthur said. “How does it work?”

Tony showed them how tapping the glass-like screen made the images beneath the screen change until they found the names of people they knew, and how pressing the names allowed them to talk to those people.

“How is this not magic?” Arthur asked quietly.

“It’s science,” Tony said. “Just...very different from the science you have. I suppose to you it seems like magic.” He handed Arthur a slim black device. “This is Bradley’s iPhone. If you get lost, or if you have questions, you can call any one of us. We’ll all have our mobiles on.”

Angel reached out and showed Arthur the password, a series of four numbers that held some significance only Bradley understood. She showed them the tiny silver switch on the side. “If you do decide to go to a film, you might want to push this down so as not to interrupt anyone. But send a text if you do choose a film, all right?”

“A text?” Merlin asked.

Angel paused, then huffed soft laughter. “Right. This is sort of like teaching my grandmum to use one of these things. Here – like this.”

And she showed them how to tap messages to people far away. Merlin was awed; it did seem rather like magic, though unlike any he had ever known or dreamed.

“If we want to see a film or have more food...we have no money,” Arthur said. “Last night at the pub, the proprietress was kind enough to put the meal on a, er, tab, but...”

“Did you lose Bradley and Colin’s wallets?” Tony asked.

“Wallet?” Arthur asked.

Tony fished in his pocket for a familiar-looking fold of dark leather, and Merlin remembered seeing one in Colin’s black bag.

“The colored parchment is money, isn’t it?” he asked. “Different colors for different denominations.”

Tony nodded. “Yes. Quite.”

“We left Bradley and Colin’s wallets in their bags,” Merlin said, “but we could fetch them before we go out.”

“You should do that,” Katie said. “Now go and have some fun. Just be Merlin and Arthur for a day, all right?”

Arthur nodded and rose up. “Thank you for the food. Do we need to help pay, or...?”

“It’ll go on the hotel tab,” Katie said.

Arthur pocketed Bradley’s mobile cautiously, and he and Merlin headed for the door. Arthur checked to make sure the hallway was clear so they could dash back to Colin and Bradley’s rooms and fetch their wallets, and Tony cleared his throat. Merlin turned to him.

“When you’re out there, if any young girls or children act especially friendly or flustered, be nice, but not too nice,” Tony said. “Some of them might call you Arthur or Merlin, because children sometimes have difficulty telling the difference between actors and the people they play. And if they ask you to sign anything...just...write your name on whatever it is they’d like signed, and smile nicely for photos.”

“What’s photos?” Merlin asked.

Tony, Angel, and Katie exchanged looks.

“This is officially seriously weird,” Katie said.

“Maybe we should go with them,” Angel said. “Tony, you’ll wait to hear back from the spell nerd, right?”

Tony nodded, and he look a little pained. “Yes, of course. You really ought to accompany the lads, just in case. Take your mobiles with you, and don’t let them get hit by cars or arrested or the like.”

Katie stood up. “Right. Come on, boys – we’ll show you how the other half lives.”

“What other half?” Merlin asked.

“The non-magical, non-royal half,” Angel said. “Quick, before one of the AD’s catches us. Bradley and Colin are meant to be terribly ill.”

“Maybe,” Katie said, “we should start this excursion with a stop at a Starbucks.”

“What’s a –” Merlin began, but Katie just said, “You’ll see,” and Angel giggled.

Merlin was slightly afraid of what would happen at a Starbucks.


	9. Chapter 9

Between Bradley’s own theoretical knowledge of the castle and Colin’s superior sense of direction, Bradley managed to get to the council chambers in a semi-timely fashion. The guards bowed and then opened the doors for him. Bradley took a deep breath, ready to stride in Arthur-style and attempt to hold his composure in front of the courtiers and councillors who might be present, but when the doors swung open, he saw Uther seated alone at the head of the table, picking at the remnants of his breakfast.

Before Bradley went in, he turned to one of the guards and said, “Take a message to Sir Leon. Have him oversee morning training with the knights until I’m finished with His Majesty.” He felt a bit absurd, issuing a royal command like that, but it worked, and the guard bowed and hurried away. Another guard stepped up to take his place.

“Arthur, please, have a seat,” Uther said. He didn’t seem too annoyed that Bradley hadn’t been precisely on time, but then he had shadows around his eyes, and Bradley remembered that he’d had something of late night as well.

Bradley sat on the side he knew was generally Arthur’s. A servant stepped up to pour him a glass of wine; Bradley shook his head and waved the man aside. “What do you need of me, Father?”

Uther glanced up and made a dismissive gesture at the servant. “Leave us and see to it that we are not disturbed.”

Bradley tensed. The last time Uther made a similar order, a life-threatening duel had ensued.

The servant vanished with barely a sound, and Bradley registered the ominous finality of a closing door while Uther ate in silence. When Uther finished, he pushed his plate away and sat back.

“Arthur, I have been meaning to speak to you about Morgana.”

“As I reported, the Druids will spread word –”

Uther held up a hand to forestall comment, and Bradley cut himself off. He watched, dismayed, at the emotions that crossed Uther’s face before he said,

“She is your half-sister, and she has – magic.”

Horror curled in the pit of Bradley’s stomach, coupled with guilt. He was in no way equipped to handle this conversation. It was patently unfair that a rare moment of Uther’s honesty would fall on Bradley and not on Arthur, who deserved to hear the truth.

“That is why she...rebelled, Father?”

Uther nodded. “If I had known –” He cut himself off, and Bradley saw agony in his eyes despite the blankness of his expression.

“I wouldn’t have expected you to condemn your own daughter,” he said.

Uther pressed a fist to his mouth, his throat working. “I never told you because – I didn’t wish to betray the memory of your mother. That moment with Vivian was before I married Ygraine, but it was a moment of weakness, and...” He trailed off, looking sick.

“It certainly explains your fondness for Morgana,” Bradley offered gently. Ygraine wasn’t his mother, Morgana wasn’t his murderous sister, and Uther certainly wasn’t his father – even though in some small way he and Bradley’s father had something in common – but that didn’t mean he could be completely callous about a terrible situation that Uther had got himself into through his own hypocrisy and anger.

Uther nodded, grateful that Bradley was willing to ease the awkwardness of the conversation. “Most of the court – and indeed, the entire kingdom – is unaware that Morgana is a sorceress. The common belief is that Morgause has magic and Morgana was simply under her influence, as a half-sister.”

“I presume you mean to keep that belief alive,” Bradley said.

Uther nodded. “Yes.”

Bradley thought very carefully, then said, “Is it possible that I have magic?”

Uther’s eyes went wide. “What?”

Bradley took a deep breath. He knew he was treading on treacherous ground. “Morgana can’t have had magic her entire life – someone would have noticed. So she must have discovered her magic recently. If Gorlois wasn’t her father, and she and Morgause do not have the same mother, then they did not inherit their magic from their mothers. Is it possible that I...?”

Uther looked stricken. “No. It’s not possible. At all.”

“Even though Nimueh –”

Uther’s eyebrows snapped together. “Who told you that name?”

“Morgause, when I went to see her, said the sorceress Nimueh cast a spell so that my mother might bear me, and that magic took her life in exchange for mine. I was born of magic,” Bradley said, and he knew he had Arthur’s mien down, his tone of voice and all its inflections, but would Arthur ever dare say these words to his father?

Uther shook his head vehemently. “Arthur, no –”

“Is it possible?” Bradley asked. “Is there some way to test...?”

“If there were, we’d have caught most sorcerers at birth,” Uther said, and Bradley certainly believed that.

Uther gazed at Bradley for a long moment, and Bradley was surprised at the depth of emotion in his eyes. Tony, when he played Uther, did his best to make Uther a man with many dimensions, but it was still easy to think of Uther as a cruel and ignorant tyrant. The man before Bradley looked genuinely torn. He was a heartbroken father and a betrayed king, not just a sorcerer-slaying dictator.

Bradley lowered his gaze. “Father, if our plan succeeds and Morgana and Morgause do come to the castle, what shall I do with Morgana? If I capture her.” That Morgause would be killed immediately was unspoken law.

Uther’s expression turned pained, but before he could answer, the warning bells began to toll.

Uther called out, “Guards!”

The door swung open, and a guard poked his head in.

“Why have the warning bells sounded?” Uther demanded.

“Some remnants of Cenred’s army have been spotted in the lower town,” the guard said.

Bradley knew that meant the Blood Guard, the warriors of the Old Religion whose colors Morgana’s immortal army had worn. He rose up. “Summon my knights and send out a garrison as a search party, but hold the troops watching the lower tunnels,” he said, because that’s what Arthur would say, wasn’t it? He glanced back at Uther, who nodded stiffly.

Bradley strode for the doors. The guard had dashed off, and another had taken his place.

“Fetch me Merlin,” he said to the new guard, but before the guard could hurry off, as if on cue, Colin appeared. He had a fresh bandage on his hand and was carrying a sword. It wasn’t the stunt sword Bradley had carried out of the caves – it was a real sword. Bradley knew the glint of a cutting edge, and he realized that he would be expected to fight and kill and possibly die for Camelot. His throat closed.

“I came as soon as I heard,” Colin said, and his eyes were wide, afraid.

“It’s not Morgana and Morgause,” Bradley said in a low voice and strapped on the sword belt. His hands were shaking, and Colin moved to help him.

“What are we going to do?” Colin asked. “You don’t actually know how to fight –”

“Armor,” Bradley said. “We need armor. Come on.”

Together they stumbled down to the armory, but of course Arthur’s armor wasn’t there because the real Arthur had his armor and all Bradley had was his fake plastic armor.

“Colin,” Bradley said in a low, desperate voice, “go find me some spares.”

Colin nodded and dashed off, and Bradley tried to remember everything Andreas had ever mentioned, off-hand and casually during a stunt session, about actual sword fighting.

“You summoned us, Sire?”

Gwaine and Lancelot stepped into the armory, and Bradley felt relief flood his limbs.

“Morgana and Morgause must have sensed a trap and they sent some of their Blood Guard to retrieve the shield,” Bradley said, which made the sort of cracked sense the Merlin writers used. “They were spotted in the lower town. We must be ready to defend the citadel.”

“Yes, My Lord,” Lancelot said, and he bobbed his head deferentially. It was the first time in a long time he’d looked at Bradley without pain or dislike or jealousy, and Bradley realized he must be acting the part of Arthur all too well.

“Percival and the others are checking on the troops belowstairs,” Gwaine said.

Bradley nodded and glanced at the door. Then he beckoned them both closer and nudged the door closed with his foot.

“Before we go out there, I must tell you something,” he said, and he was taking a huge risk, doing this without Colin present.

“What’s wrong, Arthur?” Gwaine asked.

Bradley looked at both of them. “I know,” he said.

“Know what, Sire?” Lancelot jumped when the bells tolled again.

“About Merlin.”

Both men went pale.

Bradley held up a hand. “I’m not going to let any harm come to him. Just – Gwaine, if something happens to me, you must protect him, understand?”

“Does Merlin know you know?” Gwaine swallowed hard.

“I don’t know,” Bradley said. His mind spun. It’d be best to play it safe and assume that Merlin had not confessed to Arthur any time recently. “This is the first and last time I may ever talk about this, so we must talk about it now. Merlin is to be kept safe at all costs because his magic is vital to Camelot’s safety. Is that clear? Guard him with your life, even before mine.”

“Yes, My Lord,” Gwaine said, and inclined his head.

Lancelot nodded as well, but his eyes darkened, and Bradley turned to him.

“The only exception is Gwen,” he said. “You must protect her if ever I am gone.”

Lancelot nodded again. “Of course, My Lord, all of your knights are dedicated to her safety –”

Bradley swallowed hard. “Lancelot, keep her safe, and if you can – make her happy.”

Lancelot’s eyes went wide. “My Lord –”

The door burst open, and Colin came skidding in. “This is the best I could find.” He drew up short when he saw the other two knights.

They looked at each other, then at Colin.

“Remember what we spoke about,” Bradley said firmly, and the two knights nodded, ducked out of the armory.

Colin helped Bradley tug on his maille and gorge plate and pauldron. “What happened while I was gone?”

“I told them Arthur knows about Merlin’s magic but Merlin doesn’t know and Arthur will never talk about it again,” Bradley said.

“Why would you do that?”

“In case I have to cast magic and it’s obvious that Arthur would have seen it. You’ll do the hand gestures, I’ll do the rest.” Bradley helped Colin buckle his bracers.

“Are you mad?” Colin asked. “Assuming we get back to our rightful worlds or whatever, you could get Merlin killed!”

“Which is why I ensured that Gwaine and Lancelot will never ask Arthur about it again. If either of them spot you doing magic, they won’t tell Arthur or anyone else,” Bradley said. “I also told Lancelot to...look after Gwen. If anything happens to me.”

“Nothing will happen to you,” Colin said, but his voice trembled a little. “It’s just a few soldiers, not an entire army.”

“I told Lancelot to make her happy,” Bradley said quietly. He adjusted his sword belt and took a deep breath. Proper armor was bloody heavy.

Colin huffed. “Did it ever occur to you that you might be the reason Lancelot runs off with Guinevere?”

Bradley blinked. “Er...”

The warning bells rang again, and this time there were shouts in the corridor just outside the armory. Bradley heard Leon’s voice in the fray.

Bradley said, “Colin, grab a sword and let’s go.”

* * *

As it turned out, Merlin need not have worried about Starbucks. It ended up being a special tavern of sorts, the kind that sold a special wakefulness potion called ‘caffeine’ in various forms. Angel and Katie had their particular favorites and they bought him something that had ‘lots of sugar’. To Merlin, it tasted heavenly. Whatever they bought for Arthur was a lot blacker and foul-looking. The expression on Arthur’s face when he had his first mouthful and manfully tried not to choke made the girls giggle, but Merlin knew better than to laugh out loud and hid his smile behind his cup. (Merlin learned that the shiny, glass-like substance that comprised so many things was called plastic. He squirreled that bit of information away in his mind to offer to Gaius later.)

“This is our town,” Angel said, making a sweeping gesture once they were out on the street. “Well, not our town specifically – it’s not like any of us own it. Just...it’s the town we call home whenever we’re filming down in this region.”

“You’ve been here before?” Merlin asked.

Katie nodded. “Yeah, for the scene with the afanc back in series one.”

Arthur cast her a sidelong glance. “So...the afanc...”

“Wasn’t conjured by Morgana,” Katie said. “She only had prophetic dreams back then. No, that afanc was conjured by Nimueh, and she got all huffy when Merlin stopped her, so that’s why she tried to poison him during Bayard’s visit.”

Arthur blinked. “But it was my goblet that was poisoned.”

“Yes, well, Nimueh knew Merlin would try to save you,” Angel said. She shoved Arthur in the shoulder playfully, then snatched her hand back when his eyes went wide. “Er, sorry. Just – not everything’s about you. Remember that. Some people actually realize that Merlin has loads of magic and is special and powerful. Just...no one who talks to you, apparently.”

“Right,” Merlin said, hurrying to change the subject before Arthur got any more uncomfortable and lashed out. “So...what do people here do when they’re not working?”

“Colin reads a lot,” Katie said. “He loves books. He’s so cultured.”

“What does Bradley do?” Arthur asked.

Angel shrugged. “He likes football, mostly. Frisbee. He’s very – active. He likes running around. A bit like an overgrown puppy, actually.”

Merlin imagined a large, golden dog running about the courtyard with Arthur’s crown perched atop its floppy ears and grinned; Arthur grumbled, disgruntled at the notion.

“I think there’s a park near the center of town – you know, the old village green. I suppose it wouldn’t be too difficult to round some lads up for a game of football, or we could look in the shops for a Frisbee,” Katie said.

“Also, we should totally go to a film,” Angel added. She grinned at Merlin. “Films are like magic. You’ll love them.”

Merlin was faintly dazzled by all the sights and sounds of the town – the cars and lights, the people chattering on their mobiles and the wash of music from every open door. It seemed every shop was determined to play its own song, and Merlin wanted to learn every one.

Katie caught him by the elbow and steered him down the pavement, startling him out of his distraction. “There’s a toy shop down this way. We can find a football and a Frisbee there, I’m sure.”

Merlin nodded and smiled at her. A sweet, smiling Morgana-like woman who was utterly sincere in her fondness for him was still a bit disconcerting at times, but Merlin supposed he didn’t have it as bad as Arthur, who was striding alongside Angel and looking torn between holding her hand and standing politely as far from her as possible.

Angel looked up and cast Merlin a small, sad smile. Then she put a hand on Arthur’s shoulder gently and said, “Toy shops are full of wonderful things. What sorts of toys did you have growing up?”

“Soldiers, swords, shields,” Arthur said, gamely trying to be courteous. “I learned from a very young age to be a competent soldier and war-leader.”

“So you weren’t kidding when you said you’d been training to kill since birth,” Merlin said.

Katie’s eyes gleamed, and she said, “He wasn’t – but then, he’d been training to be a prat for about as long.”

Arthur opened his mouth to deliver a sharp retort, the kind that would usually be accompanied by cuffing Merlin upside the head, but then he saw that both Katie and Angel were smiling, and not maliciously, and he sighed.

“Perhaps some of my father’s notions about rank and station were...misguided,” he said. “But today I am not a prince and there are no kings. We are going to play a game of Frisbee, yes? What is the goal of this game?”

Merlin hoped it didn’t involve loads of running around. He could run with the best of them. Between running from angry neighbors after a prank with Will gone awry, or running from bandits or angry magical creatures with Arthur, Merlin had speed and stamina on par with the knights of Camelot, but that didn’t mean he liked running. At all.

Angel shrugged. “I don’t know that there’s a goal, really. Mostly you stand around and throw the Frisbee to each other and we mock you mercilessly if you fail to catch it.”

“I see,” Arthur said, in that tone that meant he clearly didn’t.

Merlin, on the other hand, could totally get behind that sort of game. He smiled at Katie. “Do they play loads of games like that, here, where it doesn’t matter who wins or loses?” Merlin had played such games as a child, like tag or hide-and-seek. He suspected Arthur had played no such games and had little understanding of a world where there were not clear winners and losers.

“We play enough of them,” Katie said. She led him toward a shop with a bright sign. Merlin noted that it was crowded with small children and their mothers.

“It’s appropriate for adults to indulge in such games?” Arthur asked.

“Yes,” Angel said patiently, “when they’re not working.”

Merlin had noticed that the people they passed on the streets would stare at him as he walked, but as soon as he looked at them to smile or say hello, they would look away, seemingly embarrassed. He reached up and swiped a hand over his face. He didn’t have anything stuck in his teeth, did he?

“What’s wrong?” Katie asked. She was standing beside a display of large, round discs like plates that were made of that thick plastic substance and were bright, unnaturally garish colors Merlin could never have imagined.

Merlin shuffled closer to her and hunched his shoulders, ducked his head a bit. “People keep staring at me.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I’ve seen them,” Merlin said. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, feeling exposed and a little anxious. Did they know he was out of place? Could they sense it? Was he doing it all wrong? “Katie, do I have something on my face?”

She paused in her perusal of the wares and looked up, studied him. “No. Nothing. It’s just – Merlin, do you remember how I told you that there’s a television show about you, and lots and lots of people watch it every week?”

Merlin nodded. “Is that why they’re staring at me? Because they know I’m...me?”

“Actually, I suppose most people think you’re Colin,” Katie said. She went back to inspecting the colored discs. Were they plates? They had a strange curved rim that looked practical to prevent food from falling off of them if they were plates. “He’s quite popular with the ladies, you know. Girls the world over love him. I suspect, if you wanted, you could pull with any one of them.”

Merlin blinked. “Pull?” He knew it was a euphemism for something, but he couldn’t imagine what.

“Pull,” Katie said, and waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Merlin felt a blush creep over his face. “What? I couldn’t – that would be so dishonorable! My mother taught me to respect women, and – Surely Colin wouldn’t do such a thing.”

“No, Colin wouldn’t, but you could. No one would judge you,” Katie said. “It might be nice, you know? A little comfort in all this craziness. One of those things you don’t get to do in your ordinary life. Remember, today you’re not Arthur’s protector. You’re just...you. And you should do something for yourself.”

“No, I –” Merlin shook his head. “If I did something like that, just for me, it wouldn’t be fair to one of those girls, would it?”

Katie winked and said, “Who says it has to be a girl?”

Merlin felt his eyes go wide. “What? I would not – they speak of some knights and their squires on long campaigns.” He swallowed hard. He couldn’t believe he was having this conversation with a lady. “But I would not...and Arthur would never ask me to...”

“Well, that answers that,” Katie said, and was it Merlin’s imagination, or did she sound faintly disappointed? “Don’t worry. It’s not like I expect you to behave that way. But if you wanted, you could flirt a little. And the girls wouldn’t mind at all. They’d be very sweet about it. In fact, it might be one of those rare occasions when you’re more popular than your prince.”

“Because Colin pretends to be me?” Merlin asked.

Katie blinked. “Well, yes, you’d have to pretend to be Colin, but still, act your sweet self and the girls will eat it up.”

“Right,” Merlin said. “But I don’t sound like Colin, do I?”

“This is true,” Katie conceded. “And the girls would certainly notice that. Maybe it’s best if you don’t flirt after all. Now, which color to you like best?” She gestured expansively at the bright plates.

“Er...they’re all strange,” Merlin said. “Why do they sell plates at a toy shop?”

Katie burst out laughing.

Merlin blinked. “Did I say something wrong?”

“You’re just too adorable for words. No, these, my sweet little wizard, are Frisbees. And we’re going to buy one, and we’re going to laugh when Arthur fails to catch it. So...what color?”

“The pinky one,” Merlin said.

Katie grinned. “Neon pink. A man after my own heart.” She scooped up the bright pink Frisbee-plate-disc thing and headed into the shop. Merlin trailed after her. He’d kept an eye on Angel and Arthur the entire time. Angel was pawing through a box of brightly colored balls while Arthur fought to remain politely indifferent as he hovered over her, protective.

Inside the shop, Katie fished a wallet out of her purse and spoke to the shopkeeper. Merlin roamed the aisles and shelves, gazing at the bright toys, the boxes and packages, the pictures and wires and strings. He wondered that there were so many toys in the world and hoped there were enough children to play with them all. He was studying a box of building blocks when he felt a tug on his trouser leg.

“Mister Merlin?”

He looked down and saw a small boy with bright red hair and blue eyes standing beside him and gazing up at him.

“Hello,” he said cautiously. He remembered Tony’s words, that most people would think him Colin but some children would call him Merlin.

“Mister Merlin, can you really do magic?”

Merlin was quite sure Colin could do no such thing. He knelt down so he was eye-level with the boy. “Shh,” he whispered. “The magic is secret.”

The boy nodded solemnly and whispered back, “I won’t tell anyone.”

Merlin glanced over his shoulder. Katie was still chatting to the shopkeeper, and Angel and Arthur were purchasing a black-and-white ball.

“I can’t do big magic – it’s dangerous, because we’re inside a shop,” Merlin said. His heart was thumping hard in his chest. The one time he’d performed magic for fun where anyone could see was the time he’d almost been burnt at the stake by Aredian.

“All right,” the boy said.

Merlin closed his eyes and took a deep breath, held up a hand. He opened his eyes and uncurled his fist, and there, on his palm, was an illusion of a tiny figure, of Prince Arthur atop his horse, swinging a sword and firing arrows, charging with a lance and readying his men for battle. The little boy stared a the image with wide eyes, his expression awed but totally unafraid. Merlin felt something warm build inside him at the wonder on the boy’s face as the figure of Arthur danced across his palm, dueling bandits with his sword, and then a woman said, “Simon, where are you? I told you not to go running off.”

Merlin closed his hand instinctively, and the image vanished.

A woman with bright red hair – obviously the boy’s mother – came storming around the corner, weighed down with bags full of toys.

“Simon, were you bothering strangers again? How many times have I told you –”

Merlin straightened up slowly, trying to keep his movements non-threatening. He knew how protective of their children women could be. “He wasn’t bothering me at all, madam.”

The woman stopped short, and her eyes went wide, and Merlin saw that she was blushing.

“Oh,” she said in a small voice, all anger gone from her. “Colin Morgan.”

“Er, yes,” Merlin said, feeling helpless and a bit churlish for lying to her.

“Mum, Merlin showed me magic,” the little boy said, running to her and clinging onto her arm.

The woman smiled down at him, then up at Merlin. “That was very sweet of him. I hope Simon wasn’t a bother, Mr. Morgan.”

“Not at all,” Merlin said. Then he leaned down to Simon. “Remember, the magic is secret.”

Simon nodded and clapped his hand over his mouth.

Then Arthur’s voice rang out across the shop. “Colin! Are we going to play football or not?”

Simon must have recognized Arthur’s voice, for his eyes went wide. Simon’s mother blushed even more.

Arthur rounded the corner, and he was carrying the black-and-white ball Angel had purchased. “What are you doing? Tell me you haven’t been bothering this lady and her son.”

“Oh, he hasn’t been a bother at all,” the woman said breathlessly, and she sounded the way some village girls did when they met Arthur while he was being all Princely and looking dashing in his armor.

Arthur clapped Merlin on the shoulder. “I’m glad to hear it. Have a good day, my lady. Come on – I’ll show you how football works.”

Merlin waved at Simon and his mother, then followed Arthur out of the shop. “Do you even know how to play?”

“Angel assures me the goal of the game is quite simple. I’m naturally coordinated. I’m sure we’ll win in no time.”

“But I thought we were playing Frisbee,” he said.

“I have been told that Frisbee is a sedate game and is suitable for playing after football has tired us out,” Arthur said.

Merlin glanced over his shoulder to where Katie and Angel were lingering, heads bowed close as they giggled. Even in this world, girls managed to be inscrutable at random times. “We should wait for them to catch up,” Merlin said. “We don’t know the way to the village green.”

“I think it’s a safe bet that the village green is where it is in every village – in the center,” Arthur said.

Merlin rolled his eyes. “Right.”

Angel and Katie caught up to them and led them to the edge of town, past the village green to where there was a vast ‘park’, an expanse of grass and trees ripe for pastimes like Frisbee and football. In fact, a group of young men were already kicking a black-and-white ball across the grass. Merlin noted that half of them weren’t wearing tunics, some sort of team indicator, and that there were crowds of girls on the sidelines cheering. It was like a knightly melee, only without the horses, swords, and armor. Of course Arthur would choose it.

“We can sit on the sidelines and watch for a bit while we explain it,” Angel said. “And then you can ask the lads if you can join in, substitute in for a bit here and there.”

“I don’t think I want to go in there,” Merlin said.

“You don’t have to,” Katie said. “You can sit here with me and Angel.”

Arthur was studying the players and the movement of the ball with the same intensity with which he studied his opponents at a tourney. “So the object is for one group of men to kick the ball between the markers at that end, and the object of the other team is to kick the ball between the markers at the opposite end.”

“Apparently we don’t need to explain it to you,” Angel said, and she looked surprised. “You really aren’t Bradley. He would never put football in such simple terms. For him, football is like war. It’s all strategy, attack and defense, strength and weakness.”

Arthur nodded. “Perhaps Bradley and I have more in common than looks and voice. I should limber up before I take the field.”

“You do that,” Katie said. She sat down on the grass, and Angel and Merlin sat beside her. “We’ll be here when you’re done having your pride handed to you.”

“Surely it can’t be that difficult,” Arthur said. “It’s kicking a ball.”

Katie smirked. “Whatever you say, Your Highness.”

“I’m not a prince, not today,” Arthur said. “Today I’m just Arthur.” And he trotted toward the players.

“How badly is this going to end for him?” Merlin asked.

“Who knows?” Katie said. “Hopefully at least a little badly.”

“Maybe not,” Angel said. “He is Arthur, so he’s likely very coordinated and athletic.”

“There’s a reason only a few people get paid to play football,” Katie pointed out.

“Yes, but those lads are hardly professionals.” Angel shrugged.

Merlin watched, a little nervously, as Arthur spoke to one of the lads without a tunic. Moments later, Arthur shucked his own tunic and let it drop to the grass – typical lazy prat – and trotted onto the field.

“This is going to be fun.” Katie sounded positively gleeful.

Arthur could run with the best of them, and he had a decent sense of attack and defense – after all, he defended a kingdom on a regular basis – but he couldn’t seem to wrap his head around how to kick the ball in the precise direction he wanted it to go. Merlin could see that he was getting frustrated with himself, and his teammates were getting frustrated with him too. Merlin had no clue who was winning or losing, but he had sussed out enough of the game to know when to cheer, and he could tell something good was happening for Arthur’s team when the girls near them began to holler and yell encouragement at the players. The girls started to get even louder, and Merlin saw Arthur charging up the field, keeping the ball in front of him with little kicks, and yes, he’d finally figured out how to control the thing – and then a man from the other team crashed into him. Arthur went down.

Angry cries rose up from the girls beside them, and Katie and Angel both yelled things that Merlin suspected were quite rude, but he didn’t care, because Arthur was down, and he wasn’t getting back up. Merlin leaped to his feet and started for the field.

Several young men were standing over Arthur. The man who’d crashed into him was on his feet and dusting grass off of his clothes.

“What now, Prince Arthur?” The derision in his tone was a slap to the face. “We saw you playing at Old Trafford, and you even managed to score a goal. Where’s Merlin now? Need his help to remember your way round a football?”

Arthur still wasn’t moving.

Merlin came closer. “Let me see him.”

The man who’d charged Arthur spun around. “Here to rescue your boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Merlin snapped. “He’s my friend, and he’s hurt. Let me see.”

The man sneered, and he stepped closer. Some of this other friends came with him, and Merlin knew this scene too well, had been surrounded by bandits in the forest too many times. Only this time, Arthur was down, and neither of them had swords. The man reached into the pocket of his trousers, and Merlin saw it – the glint of a knife. He reacted instantly and reached out, cast a swift, simple spell. The man went flying. Cries rose up around him, and Merlin dashed to Arthur’s side.

“Are you all right? Where does it hurt? I can heal you.”

“Stop fussing like a fishwife. I’m fine. I was just dazed for a moment is all, and waiting for that man to stop being annoying. He called me Prince Arthur,” Arthur said in a low voice. “And he called you Merlin –”

“What the hell happened?” Katie demanded. “I just saw a man go flying –”

“He’s an enemy,” Merlin said in a low voice. “He had a knife and was going to hurt Arthur. I had to stop him. We have to get somewhere safe. Now.”

Katie glanced over her shoulder to where the man was sprawled on the ground and his friends were fussing over him. Angel helped Arthur to his feet and dusted him off, handed him his tunic. He blushed and turned away from her, tugged his tunic back on.

“Merlin, people here don’t carry weapons like they do in your world. Arthur was safe,” Katie said.

“But that man – he called us by our real names,” Merlin said.

Katie sighed. “Look, in our world, men like Colin and Bradley who act for a living, they’re sometimes frowned upon by other men who think acting is silly. And un-masculine. That man was calling you by your real names because he was mocking Colin and Bradley. He meant no harm.”

“He had a knife –”

“Are you sure?” Katie asked. “Come on. Let’s go see if he’s hurt.”

Merlin followed her across the grass, confused and even more anxious than before.

“What did you do to him?” one of the man’s friends asked.

“It was all a misunderstanding,” Katie said, and the men seemed faintly mollified by the fact that she was a beautiful woman. “Is he all right?”

“Fine. Just – confused,” the man said. “We all are. What happened?” He peered at Merlin. “You didn’t even touch him, and he went flying.”

Merlin shrugged, feeling uncomfortable. “Um...magic?”

“Right,” the man said, clearly skeptical. “Look, we didn’t mean to get so rough with your mate. John’s a bit of a prat sometimes. No harm, no foul, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Katie said. “Maybe it’s time we go play some Frisbee.” She tugged on Merlin’s elbow.

“I’m sorry,” Merlin said. “Did I ruin things? I just – I have to keep Arthur safe.”

Katie patted his shoulder sympathetically. “I know you do, but you need to relax. Maybe, before we play any Frisbee, we should go see a film. I think that’ll calm you down.” She raised her voice. “Hey Angel, fancy going to see a film?”

“Sounds like an excellent plan,” Angel said. “Let me check my mobile and see what’s playing that they’d like. Maybe that film about the garden gnomes?”

“What about the Green Hornet? Don’t all lads like explosions and fast cars and the like?” Katie asked.

All Merlin knew of explosions was when Kilgarrah was attemtping to raze Camelot to its foundations. “Explosions are scary,” he said in a quiet voice.

“Right,” Katie said brightly, “garden gnomes it is.”

“Wait, where are we going?” Arthur asked.

“To see a film,” Angel said. “About forbidden love. Surely you can relate.”

Arthur’s expression darkened. “I suppose I can.”

Angel hastened to correct herself, “Not that it’s so forbidden now, of course. I mean, everyone knows Guinevere becomes Queen of Camelot, right?”

Arthur went still. “Is that true?”

“Oh. Way to throw out a spoiler,” Katie said, but she didn’t look quite as amused as she sounded.

“In our world it is,” Angel said. “Arthur and Guinevere – one of history’s greatest romances. At least, until –”

Katie elbowed her sharply. “Look for where the nearest cinemas are.”

Angel nodded and fumbled for her mobile. Merlin wondered what she was going to say about Camelot’s future monarchy, but he could see happiness sparkling in Arthur’s eyes at the thought of Gwen becoming his queen, so he didn’t ask.

Angel looked up from her mobile. “Found it. Cinema’s on the other side of town. We can stop for ice lollies or something on the way.”


	10. Chapter 10

Bradley could feel Colin breathing hotly against his neck as they crouched against an arrow loop above the courtyard. The guards in the lower town had been routed and he could hear the townspeople screaming. Bradley felt his stomach roil, and his grip on the borrowed sword was white-knuckled.

“What now, Sire?” Leon asked.

“Was there any sign of Morgana and Morgause?” Bradley thought quickly, trying to remember what Gwaine had told him.

“None,” Leon said. He was looking at Bradley, waiting.

Time to make a decision, one that would cost people their lives. For one moment, Bradley couldn’t speak, because he wasn’t Arthur. He wasn’t their prince, and he had no right to make this choice.

Colin jabbed him in the ribs.

Bradley said, “Halve the guards on the lower levels. Surround the courtyard with archers and crossbowmen. They can’t cast magic at what they can’t see. Have several guards escort my father to a safe place.”

“Yes, Sire.” Leon bobbed his head and ducked away.

Gwaine took his place. “What’s the plan now?” He was looking at Colin more than he was looking at Bradley.

“We don’t even know if the guards have magic,” Colin said, hesitant.

“We should assume all of them have at least as much magic as Morgana,” Lancelot said, popping up beside Colin. He cast Arthur a significant look.

Colin looked at Bradley. Bradley closed his eyes and took a deep breath, felt the Tapestry thrum under his fingertips.

“Then if they use magic, we’ll do what we have to,” Colin said.

Lancelot nodded. “Where do you need us, Sire?” He turned to Bradley.

Bradley had no idea what to do now – the Blood Guard still wasn’t at the courtyard, but the screams were getting louder. “Gwaine, you...supervise the remaining garrisons on the lower level. Lancelot, you and Elyan oversee the archers and bowmen at the courtyard.”

Gwaine nodded and ducked away.

Men in armor and carrying weapons were already spilling up the stairs and fanning out to surround the courtyard, and soon all the arrow loops were taken by men in silver armor and Pendragon-red tabards. Bradley clutched his sword tightly.

Then he remembered. “Who’s guarding the shield?”

“Percival and a squadron of his men,” Lancelot said. Elyan hurried over to them, and Lancelot repeated Bradley’s orders in a low voice.

“Good,” Bradley said. “We cannot let them take it.”

The screams from the townspeople became louder and louder, and Bradley was horrified to see women and children come sprinting into the courtyard, men in armor and Blood Guard tabards on their heels. The guards at the drawbridge tried to fend them off, but Bradley saw it, the reaching of hands and the casting of magic, and he felt it vibrate through the Tapestry.

Elyan let out a shout, and arrows and bolts rained down on the courtyard. The first volley took out about a third of the men, and Lancelot called for a second volley, but it was too late – some of the Blood Guard cast spell shields, and some of them began casting spells up toward the arrow loops.

The man at the loop to Bradley’s left went down with a cry, and Bradley was assaulted with the stench of burning flesh.

Then Bradley heard Leon yell, “Your Majesty! No!”

Bradley looked down and saw Uther charging across the courtyard, sword drawn.

Lancelot shouted, “Merlin!”

A group of Blood Guard advanced on Uther. Bradley had no choice. He yelled for the archers and crossbowmen to hold.

Lancelot appeared at Colin’s elbow, and they watched in horror as Uther took on one man with a sword, then another. One Blood Guard extended a hand, cast a spell, and Uther went flying backward.

“The King,” Bradley breathed, horrified. He couldn’t let Uther die.

“Merlin,” Lancelot said. “You must do something.”

“I know,” Colin said tightly. He glanced at Bradley.

Bradley nodded and fumbled off Arthur’s glove, felt for his ring. Then he directed his gaze deliberately away from Colin. Colin took a deep breath and stretched out one hand, mumbled something half-memorized under his breath. It sounded like a healing spell from series one, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was the singing of the strings of reality through Bradley’s veins, the hum and buzz of the Tapestry and the hot rush of magic through his blood.

He gathered it to him – and then he pushed as hard as he could.

Bradley saw a handful of the Blood Guard go flying through the air, land like carelessly strewn dolls. The Tapestry roiled in response, and Bradley knew with a sudden icy surety that all of those men were dead, and he was the one who’d killed them.

Bradley took a deep breath. “Surrender to the knights of Camelot or your lives are forfeit!” How he managed to speak right then he did not know, because he wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball in a corner and scream. He’d just murdered five men.

No. Now was not the time. He was a professional, and he had to shove his own emotions aside. Bradley took another deep breath, gathered all the panic that had been drumming in his chest, locked it away in a tiny box in the back of his mind, and became Prince Arthur.

One of the Blood Guard advanced on Uther again. Bradley pressed a hand to Colin’s shoulder, and Colin nodded, reached out to cast a spell, and Bradley twisted Arthur’s ring again. The Blood Guard staggered back. He lifted his head and peered in Bradley’s general direction. Bradley squeezed Colin’s shoulder, and Colin snatched his hand back immediately.

“What hypocrisy is this, that magic is used to defend Camelot’s king?” the Blood Guard called, voice arrogant and ringing. He sounded more amused than afraid.

Uther heaved himself to his feet and lifted his sword. “Reveal yourself, sorcerer!”

The Blood Guard who’d had the audacity to address the king directly threw his head back and laughed. “You fool – you’re surrounded by sorcerers, and one of them is pathetic enough to help keep you alive.”

“Your magic has eaten away at the heart of my kingdom and I will have it all purged by fire,” Uther snarled, and he sounded both mad and desperate. “Guards! Seize them!”

Several guards advanced down the front steps in a Roman phalanx, shields and spears high. The Blood Guards cast magic fire in response.

“Merlin,” Lancelot said, voice low and desperate.

Colin bit his lip. “Lancelot, I cannot –”

“Arthur knows,” Lancelot said. “Please. The King –”

Colin looked at Bradley. He nodded once, sharply, too wound up to even attempt a grand Arthurian speech. “Do it.”

Colin stretched out his hand. Bradley plucked at the Tapestry strings, and as one, the remaining Blood Guards toppled over, felled unconscious.

Uther repeated his order. “Seize them!” And the castle guards who’d survived the Blood Guard’s magic prowled closer, pounced on the unconscious men.

Bradley turned to Lancelot. “Summon Gaius and anyone with medical skills to tend to the people in the courtyard and lower town. Move the injured soldiers to the infirmary. I must speak to my father.”

Lancelot nodded. “Of course. Merlin –”

“Will be safe with me,” Bradley said. He started to go, then paused and turned. “Lancelot – check on Gwen.”

“Yes, My Lord,” Lancelot said.

Bradley swiped a hand over his face. “It’s Arthur.”

“Yes, Arthur.” Lancelot met his gaze, his expression inscrutable, and then turned and hurried away.

“Is Uther insane?” Colin asked. He followed Bradley off the parapet and down the stairs. “Why would he go charging out there alone?”

“You remember that one scene from the series premiere, the one that got cut? Some sort of dementia or madness is apparently in the Pendragon genes,” Bradley said. A pair of guards bearing one of their fellow wounded jogged past, and Bradley automatically stepped aside to let them through. The scent of burnt flesh was terrible, and Bradley had the sudden urge to find a quiet corner to be sick.

Before he could turn away from his course, he came up short. Uther was standing at the foot of the stairs, dressed in full armor and still carrying his sword, and he was gazing up at Bradley with cold fury in his eyes.

“Did you see who among your men used magic?” Uther’s gaze slid over to Merlin.

“No, Father, I was busy trying to see to it that you weren’t accidentally killed by my men when you ran straight into a courtyard surrounded by archers and bowmen,” Bradley said tightly. “I sent Leon to make sure you were safe. Why did you not stay with your escort?”

“You forget, Arthur, that I am king and this is my kingdom and I fought for it once. You cannot deny me the right to fight for it again,” Uther said. “Who was it?” He leveled his sword at Merlin. “Was it you?”

“No, Father, it was not Merlin,” Bradley said firmly.

Uther’s eyes narrowed. “Your affection for the boy has always blinded you to his faults. He’s been accused once, and even though Aredian was wrong that time he was not always wrong before.”

“It wasn’t Merlin,” Bradley said again.

The soldiers who usually kept an eye on the stairs that led to the parapet above the courtyard made themselves scarce when they caught his tone.

“How can you know for sure?” Uther asked.

“Because I trust him,” Bradley said.

Gwaine, who’d been seeing to the men in the lower levels, came tearing up the stairs just then with a cry of, “Arthur!” But when he saw Uther, he stopped short.

“Someone used magic out there, someone who was inside the castle,” Uther said.

“That someone used magic to protect you,” Bradley said.

“When you’re done seeing to your men, I want the sorcerer found,” Uther said.

Bradley had to see to the men, the ones who’d been injured and almost killed on Bradley’s command, the command that wasn’t really his to give. Bile rose in his throat, and it took every ounce of willpower to choke it back down.

“I will not look to punish a man who saved your life any more than I will let you punish a man who saved mine,” Bradley said.

Anger flashed in Uther’s eyes. “How dare you defy me –”

Enough was enough. Bradley was going to do it. He had to. “It was me, Father.”

Uther blinked. “What?”

“The one with the magic. It was me.”

Denial shuttered the anger in Uther’s eyes. “No. That’s impossible –”

Bradley ripped off Arthur’s glove again and held up his hand, conjured a ball of flame with little more than a thought. “It was _me._ ”

Colin let out a distressed squeak.

“Arthur –” The word caught in Uther’s throat, and he choked.

“I asked you if I was born of magic,” Bradley said quietly. “And you lied to me, the same way you lied to Morgana. If you want to see me dead, then you shall, but as you so correctly pointed out, first I must see to my men.”

At the top of the lower staircase, Gwaine gaped like a hooked fish.

Bradley closed his fist, and the flames went out. “Come along, Merlin. I must speak to Gaius.” As he strode down the stone corridor, he waited for Uther to cry out, to summon the guards, to find himself suddenly being dragged toward his irrevocable death, but nothing happened.

As soon as he was out of sight of Gwaine and the other guards, he ducked into an alcove and lost his breakfast.

Colin patted his back compulsively, smoothed a hand over his hair. “Are you mad? When the real Arthur and Merlin get back –”

“He was going to kill you,” Bradley said. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and grimaced.

“What if he kills you?” Colin asked.

“I won’t let him,” Bradley said. “We talk about it all the time, how magic users in Camelot should be able to escape and they never do. I can escape.”

“Are you sure? You always say you’re not as strong as Merlin. How can you know –”

“You saw what I did out there, how much stronger I am here,” Bradley said. “I can defend myself from an old man if I have to.”

“I saw,” Colin said quietly.

Bradley nodded, stared down out his feet. “You saw what I did. Colin, I – I killed those men.” He lifted his head, searched Colin’s face for recrimination or anger, judgment or something to remind him that he wasn’t Arthur, that what he’d done was wrong. His stomach roiled again. “Colin, I killed those men, and some of the other men, Arthur’s men, they’re going to die because Arthur’s not here and I didn’t know how to make the right decision and –” He leaned over and was sick some more.

Colin threw an arm around his shoulders and held him tightly, patted his back. “Bradley, I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “You did what you had to do. I know you didn’t want to, but you did the right thing. It’ll be all right. We’ll talk to Gaius and he’ll help us get home.”

Bradley shook his head; the Tapestry was pounding in his brain, and his stomach was heaving again. He didn’t know how killing could ever be the right thing to do, and he wondered how Merlin and Arthur lived with themselves every day.

“Bradley,” Colin said quietly.

Bradley straightened up and pressed his hand to his mouth, took a deep shuddering breath. Then he squeezed his eyes shut, because, for the first time since his father left, he wanted to cry.

Colin made a low noise and tugged Bradley into his arms, held him tight, tight, tighter, until Bradley didn’t have breath to sob.

“Bradley, Bradley, don’t worry,” Colin whispered. “It’ll be fine. Hold on. I know you can.” He was patting Bradley’s hair and holding him tightly, and Colin rarely touched anyone outside of a scene, but Bradley was losing himself in his own head and the Tapestry, and Colin was there, and then Angel said,

“Arthur?”

Colin wrenched himself back, and Bradley had to take another deep breath before he could look up, and he saw Gwen – it was Gwen, not Angel – standing in the corridor. Her face was pale and her lips were pressed into a thin line, and Bradley was shocked to see something like betrayal glimmering in her eyes.

“Guinevere,” he said, because he didn’t know what else to say.

“Gaius was asking after you,” she said.

“Thank you, Gwen,” Colin said, and his voice was low, rolling, not Merlin’s voice at all but his own, and Gwen cast him a strange look.

She stepped closer to the alcove and said, “Arthur, are you all right?”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Gwen. I just – you’re going to hear things later today, some of which may not be true. Don’t believe anything until I’ve had a chance to talk to you, all right? But if something happens to me, Lancelot will take care of you.”

She nodded but cast another look at Colin, then bobbed a curtsy and hurried away.

“It’s official,” Colin said, watching her go. “It’s your fault she runs off with Lancelot.”

“Maybe it is,” Bradley said, grateful for Colin’s attempt at humor. He squeezed Colin’s shoulder. “Thank you for –”

“You’re welcome,” Colin said. “Come on.”

Down in the infirmary, Gaius was tending to the soldiers who had been burned by the Blood Guards’ magic. He glanced up when Colin and Bradley stepped into the room and said, “Sire, so good of you to come.”

Bradley set Arthur’s leather gloves aside. “Is there anything we can do to help?” He moved toward the cot where one soldier was sleeping fitfully.

“You can tell me what happened out there.”

“Magic,” Colin said. “From the Blood Guards. And Bradley – he told Uther –”

“Don’t call him that in front of the men, even if they are unconscious,” Gaius said. He turned to Bradley. “What did you tell the king?”

“The truth about me. Which is not the truth about Arthur. That I used magic to save him.” Bradley reached out and placed a hand on the soldier’s arm, felt him toss and turn. He was no good at comforting people, not like Colin was, and feeling as wretched as he did he didn’t think he would be able to offer much in the way of comfort.

The soldier’s eyes fluttered open. “My Lord,” he croaked.

“Rest,” Bradley said. “You’ve earned it. Our enemies did not prevail.”

The man nodded, and his eyes fluttered closed, and he was unconscious once more. Bradley stared down at him and wondered what he’d been thinking, risking this man’s life, risking all their lives when he was just an actor, not a king or a prince or even a soldier. Gaius beckoned him away from the cot, and he followed.

“I was searching through my books when the warning bells began to ring,” Gaius said. “I think I might have found some sort of solution to your problem, but you’ll need to see it yourself and see if it kens with what you know about the...Tapestry.”

Bradley nodded. “Of course. Where is the book?”

Gaius gestured toward one of his workbenches. “The one on the left, with the green cover.”

It was lying open amidst a collection of vials and bowls. Bradley picked it up and scanned the page, but it was in Latin.

“I don’t read Latin,” he said.

Gaius arched his eyebrows. “Do they not teach it at your schools?”

“They do, but it’s optional,” Bradley said. He glanced at Colin. “You were raised Catholic. Do you know Latin?”

“Not a lick. I barely know Irish,” Colin said.

Before Bradley could ask more, the door swung open, and Leon poked his head in.

“Sire,” he said, and he was looking at Bradley oddly, “we’ve brought the captured enemies into the council chamber for an interrogation with the king. He requests your presence.”

“Thank you, Leon,” Bradley said. He nodded to Colin. “Come along.”

Gaius spoke to a young woman who’d been hovering between the cots tending to the soldiers, then turned to Bradley.

“I shall accompany you, Sire, to report to the king about how the injured fare,” he said, but there was a pointedness to the arch of his eyebrow.

“That’s fine, Gaius.” Bradley headed toward the door, and Colin trailed behind him.

Up in the council chambers, three of the Blood Guard were on their knees before the king, bound and surrounded by armed guards. Gwaine, Percival, and Elyan were lingering on the edges of the room, watching Bradley with unreadable expressions. Leon bowed to Uther before he moved to stand beside his fellow knights.

“You will tell me,” Uther said, his voice terribly cold, “where the witch Morgause is taking shelter.”

The Blood Guard in the middle actually spat at Uther. One of the soldiers cuffed him sharply.

“We’ll tell you no such thing,” the Blood Guard said. “You’re already a kinslayer – we will let you harm no more of your kin.”

Rage sparked in Uther’s eyes. “You will tell me what I want to know or you will be put to death, and it will be slow.”

Bradley felt his throat close. On the series Uther was cruel, but he had never gone quite this far, not himself. Last time, he’d let Aredian do his dirty work. This time, however, he looked utterly infuriated, and Bradley knew, low in his gut, that Uther meant every word he said, and he would likely ask Bradley to do the worst of it.

“We are not afraid to die,” the Blood Guard said, and he lifted his chin defiantly. “Your reign is built on the blood of innocents, Uther Pendragon. You thought you could purge magic from this land with the blood of women and children, but you were wrong, and their blood cries for vengeance from the depths of the earth.”

“Tell me where Morgause is hiding and I might let you beg before I have you killed,” Uther said.

Behind Bradley, Colin shuddered.

The Blood Guard spat again. The nearest soldier struck him so hard he was knocked unconscious, and then at Uther’s command all three prisoners were dragged away. Bradley had remained Arthur-still and stoic behind the spectacle, but as soon as the soldiers and prisoners were out of the way he felt Uther’s gaze fall on him.

“Arthur,” Uther said, his tone deceptively jovial, “I hope your men are well.”

Gaius cleared his throat. “Several of them suffered severe burns and may never regain full use of their limbs, but all will survive.”

“Good, good.” Uther leaned back in his throne, radiating casual confidence. “I understand from Sir Percival that the shield is secure. Unfortunately, it did not draw out Morgause herself, so we must prepare a new stratagem.” His deliberate omission of Morgana’s name was telling. Like the death of Ygraine, Uther was just going to pretend away the truth. In his world Morgause was the only enemy, and Morgana had never betrayed him because she never existed.

Uther fixed Bradley with a pointed stare and said, “There is the matter of the sorcerer within your ranks. Now that your men are being seen to under Gaius’s competent care, you can begin your search.”

Not more denial. Surely Uther wasn’t so naive as to think that pretending he didn’t see something meant it wasn’t there. Bradley took a deep breath.

“Father, I told you already – Merlin is not the sorcerer.”

Uther arched one eyebrow. “Gaius, you are dismissed.”

Gaius shot Bradley a look, then bowed and shuffled out of the room. The soldiers at the door barred it shut behind him. On the sidelines, Gwaine and the others exchanged questioning glances.

Uther cast a look at the knights of the Round Table and said, “You are also dismissed.” He caught Leon’s gaze and added, “See to it that we are not disturbed.”

Leon nodded and hustled the others toward the door. Gwaine and Lancelot cast anxious looks over their shoulders, but Elyan and Percival shoved them into the hallway. The door swung shut behind them, and then Bradley turned back to face Arthur’s father.

A heavy silence hung between them while Uther studied Bradley’s face, and Bradley had to resist the urge to fidget. Could Uther sense it, that Bradley wasn’t really his son? Would he decide Bradley was a magical impostor and have him executed after all?

Finally, Uther said, “Is it true?”

“Is what true?”

“Do you have...are you...?” Uther gestured vaguely.

“Do I have magic? Yes,” Bradley said, and somehow saying it aloud like that to a man who was a veritable stranger made him feel a little less broken inside.

“How long have you...?”

“I was born with it,” Bradley said. He was speaking truth, utter truth, and in the grand tradition of actors and storytellers, he was creating a lie that taught his audience an even deeper truth.

“How could I have not known?”

“The same way you didn’t know about Morgana,” Bradley said. “Fear breeds secrets.”

“Magic is –”

“Not entirely evil,” Bradley said. “It gave you a son. And you were willing to use it to save your daughter.”

Uther’s eyes widened. “What makes you say that?”

“Just because people are unconscious doesn’t meant they cannot hear,” Bradley said. “How do you think Morgana learned she is your daughter?” Again, truths that formed a lie and a truth all in one. In this moment Bradley was himself and Arthur, and he was going to put a stop to Uther’s nonsense about magic once and for all.

Uther’s face fell, and he sank back on his throne. He looked, Bradley realized, utterly exhausted. “Arthur...”

“Would you have me burned at the stake?” Bradley asked.

Uther looked stricken. “How could you even ask?” Then he straightened up. “How can I know you’re not just protecting the boy?”

Bradley glanced over his shoulder at Colin. “Go,” he said. “Wait with the others.”

“Are you sure?” Colin glanced at Uther.

“I’ll be fine,” Bradley said, and it was true – he could defend himself from anything Uther might throw at him, literally or figuratively.

Colin nodded and slipped out of the room, closed the door quietly behind him.

Bradley turned back to Uther. “He’s gone,” he said. “What would you like to see as proof?”

Uther raised his eyebrows. “You can do...anything?” He actually looked slightly afraid.

“Not anything, no. There are limits,” Bradley said. “Ask, and I’ll tell you if I can.”

Uther pressed his knuckles to his mouth and studied Bradley for a long moment. Finally he said, “Ygraine. Can you...?”

Bradley shook his head. “No. Only the most powerful –”

Uther sighed. “You choose something. I can’t even begin to imagine –” He cut himself off when Bradley stepped closer and picked up the wine goblet that had been resting beside Uther’s right elbow. Stopping wine from spilling was almost instinctual for Bradley now, and with the thrum of the Tapestry through his veins anything was possible, maybe even Ygraine, but he wouldn’t do that, not for Uther. Bradley upended the goblet and let its contents splash through the air. One pluck of the strands of time and deep red droplets, almost as vivid as blood, hung at eye-level.

Uther could only stare. He reached out and passed his hand through the cloud of wine, felt its sticky wetness. He gazed at Bradley with blank eyes, and then he collapsed on the floor in front of his throne.

Bradley panicked.

“Gaius!”

The door flew open, and Gaius, Colin, and the knights spilled into the throne room.

“What happened?” Gaius rushed to Uther’s side. Bradley moved to help him.

“I showed him,” Bradley said in a low voice. “I think I broke him. He fainted.”

“He’s not been sleeping well,” Gaius said. “Between exerting himself and the shock of what you told him, his body likely just gave out to give itself a chance to heal. We must take him to his rooms.”

Tony was a robust man, and during the penultimate episode of series two Katie, Colin, and Bradley had used a skateboard to drag Tony around set. Uther, however, was strangely frail and light in Bradley’s arms. Bradley hoisted the king up.

“Sire, let me help,” Leon said.

“What’s that?” Percival pointed somewhere behind Bradley’s shoulder.

Bradley glanced back and saw the wine and goblet still hovering mid-air.

“Merlin,” Bradley said, and Colin made a vague gesture, and Bradley let the magic dissipate.

“I’ll send for one of the maids,” Percival said faintly, and he backed out of the room.

“No one is to see the king like this,” Bradley said, and he let Leon take some of Uther’s weight. Together, they bore the king back to his chambers, and then they laid him on his bed. Bradley began unbuckling Uther’s armor straight away. A man stepped out of the shadows in the corner near the bed, and Bradley realized that, of course, Uther must have had a manservant of his own, but Bradley waved him aside. A moment later, Colin stepped up to help Bradley unbuckle the armor.

Leon and Elyan went to help Gaius fetch some medicines from the infirmary, leaving Gwaine and Lancelot to loom while Bradley and Colin tucked Uther into bed. When Uther was as comfortable as Bradley could make him, he retreated to the antechamber. Colin, Lancelot, and Gwaine followed him.

“Arthur,” Lancelot said, “is it true?”

“Is what true?” Bradley asked.

“Do you have magic?” Lancelot asked.

Bradley looked up, searched Lancelot’s gaze. Then he said, “No, I don’t.”

Gwaine spluttered. “But I saw –”

“Me making a spectacle while poor Merlin did all the work,” Bradley said. “Like he always does.”

“Then why would you tell the king that you have magic?” Gwaine asked.

“I knew he wouldn’t kill me, but he would surely have killed Merlin even though Merlin saved his life,” Bradley said.

“Arthur,” Colin said, his tone full of reproach, “what you did back there was very stupid.”

“Enough is enough,” Bradley said tiredly. “If Uther had been honest from the beginning – about my mother, about Morgana – none of this would have happened. I had to put a stop to it.”

“Uther is still king, and the law is the law,” Lancelot said quietly.

“Yes, he is king, but one day I will be king, and I know what I want Camelot to be, and it will not be a place where loyalty is rewarded with unjust judgment and execution.” Bradley looked at Lancelot, then at Gwaine. “You two are dismissed. Please, check on the fortifications in the lower levels and send patrols out to the lower town and outer villages to ensure none of the injured are going without treatment.”

“Yes, My Lord,” Lancelot said, and he bowed. Gwaine nodded, then fumbled a bow, then followed Lancelot out of the room.

“What do we do now?” Colin asked once they were gone.

“We find a way home. Run down to the infirmary and fetch that book from Gaius. I’ll stay here till you get back, and then we’ll go to Arthur’s chambers.”

Colin started for the door, then paused. “He’s not your father.”

“Yes, but as far as he knows, I’m his son.”

“What you did back there, for Merlin – that was brave,” Colin said. “And stupid.”

“I didn’t do it for Merlin,” Bradley said. “I did it for you. You’re my best friend.”

Colin looked at him for a long moment. Then he said, “You know, of the two of us, you’re the funny one, the silly one, the life of the party, but you’re never serious. I always thought if there was an emergency, I’d have to be the one to keep a cool head. But you’ve looked out for me this entire time.”

“Maybe I am more like Merlin than I originally thought,” Bradley said. “My mother, she always said that I was born with this gift to help people. I always assumed all I’d ever be good for was quick tea and never-stained shirts, but maybe...maybe, once in a while, I’m meant for something more.”

Colin smiled faintly. “Thanks for looking out for me. I’ll go get that book.”

* * *

Because Angel had shown Arthur some videos on YouTube, he was sure he was better-equipped for the whole cinema business than Merlin was. Surprisingly, however, Arthur wasn’t smug about his experience; mostly he was giddy and excited for Merlin to see how amazing ‘modern science’ was. Angel and Katie had done their best to explain how films worked, but the process was based on so much information that was common knowledge to everyone but Merlin and Arthur that the two girls had to keep backtracking and explaining one thing before they could go on, so in the end they gave up. Katie suggested Angel show Merlin a video on her mobile, but Arthur insisted it would ruin the surprise, so when Merlin found himself sitting in a darkened room with a box full of puffy white treats called ‘popcorn’ on his lap for everyone to share, he was a little nervous.

“Now the thing about this film is that it wasn’t made with real people,” Angel said. “Not like the films we make. People made drawings, like the people you see on tapestries, so the people in this film won’t look quite...normal.”

“Are they magical creatures?” Merlin asked.

“Sort of, but not really,” Angel said, and she cast a look at Katie for help. “Do they have gnomes in Camelot?”

“Not that I’ve ever heard of,” Merlin said. “Are gnomes scary creatures?”

“No,” Katie said quickly. “Not at all. They’re sort of small. And cute. Sort of like fairies.”

“Fairies?” Merlin echoed.

“Sidhe,” Katie said.

Merlin blinked. “Erm, Sidhe aren’t very small and cute. Well, they’re small, but they’re not cute. They tried to kill Arthur, and they tried to kill me once too.”

Angel looked distressed. “Just...eat some popcorn and enjoy the film, all right?”

“All right,” Merlin said, and he was feeling even more nervous than before. He ate a handful of the popcorn for good measure. He was trying to decide precisely how to describe the texture of popcorn to Gaius, who would certainly want to hear as many details as possible, when the room went completely dark, and then the giant white not-tapestry on the far wall (Angel and Katie called it a screen) came to life.

Merlin jumped. “What...?”

“It’s just the film starting,” Katie said and patted his arm distractedly.

Merlin glanced to his left where Arthur was sitting, his head tilted back to gaze at the screen. His eyes were wide with wonder, and he was smiling, genuinely happy, and Merlin felt himself finally relax. He sat back and watched the screen and was utterly blown away by what he saw.

The sights, colors, and sounds were indescribable. At first Merlin was dazzled by how everything looked and sounded and moved, but after a while he realized that a film was like a play, and if he paid proper attention he could learn the names of the characters and understand the plot. The film was a love story, though not a serious one like the mournful ballads the bards sang that made the ladies at court cry. The boy and girl in the love story were doomed because their families were enemies, and they had to find some way to reconcile themselves in spite of their families’ hatred. The situation was not too dissimilar from Arthur and Gwen’s, but it was easy to forget about Camelot and the world at home while the little people in the film (garden gnomes) talked and laughed, fought and danced.

When the film ended and the lights came up, Merlin was still dazed. He glanced beside him and saw Arthur blinking, looking equally dazed.

“Wasn’t that brilliant?” Katie grinned. “Aren’t films amazing?”

“They are,” Merlin said. “I can see why you love making them.”

“Come on,” Angel said. “Let’s go have supper.”

They’d missed lunch due to watching the film, and out on the streets the sun was lower in the sky, casting warm gold everywhere. Katie and Angel checked their mobiles, so Merlin and Arthur checked Bradley’s and Colin’s. They’d all received a text message from Tony informing them that he hadn’t heard anything back from the spell nerd yet.

“Where to?” Katie asked.

Angel prodded her mobile some more. “There’s a really fine Italian restaurant a few streets over –”

Katie’s eyes lit up. “Pizza! We absolutely have to take the boys to eat pizza.”

“What’s pizza?” Merlin asked.

“You’ll love it,” Katie said. “Come on.” She caught Merlin by the wrist and tugged him down the nearest side-street.

“Hang on,” Arthur said. “You can’t just manhandle him like that.”

“Oh please, you do it all the time,” Katie said over her shoulder, and Merlin could only stumble along, alarmed and amused at her determined enthusiasm about this pizza business.

The pizza tavern in question looked like any ordinary tavern, all wooden furniture and dim lights that flickered like flames, only there was a special machine in the corner of the room called a jukebox that played music if one inserted coins, so once the tavern owner showed them all to a table, Angel and Katie crowded around the machine and put in lots of coins and picked songs.

“What did you think of the film?” Arthur asked. He and Merlin were alone at the table, sipping cautiously at fizzy drinks that made Merlin’s nose twitch like he needed to sneeze.

“It was brilliant,” Merlin said. He peered at Arthur over the top of his plastic cup. “Did you have any fun today? At least a little?”

“I had fun,” Arthur said, choosing his words carefully. “I enjoyed playing football despite how terribly it ended.” At that, he shot Merlin a pointed look.

Merlin just smiled innocently.

“The ice lollies were very delicious, and the film was excellent. I think it’s safe to presume that the pizza we are about to consume will also be delicious, and maybe when it’s finished Tony will have heard from the spell nerd,” Arthur said. “And if not...maybe we can finally go play Frisbee.”

Merlin nodded. “Yeah, I think the pizza will be good, and the Frisbee will also be fun.” He glanced over his shoulder at the girls. “I wonder what they’re so excited about.”

“Judging by Katie’s grin, I don’t think it’s anything that’s going to be good for us,” Arthur said, but he was watching Angel wistfully.

Music began to spill from the jukebox, and then Katie was sashaying toward them wearing a decidedly wicked grin.

“We’re not going to like this, are we?” Merlin asked.

Katie stopped beside the table and rested her hands on her hips. “That depends. Do you like to dance?”

Merlin shrugged. “I don’t really know how to dance. It’s a courtier thing, really. I mean, I can join in on a ring dance in the village at a festival, but –”

Angel caught him by the wrist and hauled him to his feet. “This is not dancing for the court. I’ll show you how it’s done.”

Merlin didn’t know what to do when Angel stepped closer to him and reached up, wrapped her arms around his neck and began to sway to the beat of the music.

“Erm...shouldn’t you step back a little?” Merlin glanced over his shoulder to where a family was dining. “Isn’t this a bit...scandalous?”

“Not in the least,” Angel said. “Now come on, sway with me. Can you feel the beat?”

“Sort of,” Merlin hedged. He looked down so he could study her feet, match her pattern of movement, but she tugged on his collar.

“No, look at me. Feet don’t matter,” she said. “Just follow the music.”

Merlin tried, and it shouldn’t have been difficult, because all that mattered was counting to four over and over again, but he wasn’t quite getting it, and he knew he wasn’t, because he and Angel were never moving in the same direction at the same time. Judging by the giggling from Katie and the frustrated grumbling from Arthur on the other side of the room, Arthur wasn’t proving to be much of a dancer either. By the time the song ended, Merlin had at least figured out how to move in time with Angel, which was not necessarily moving in time with the music, and then the serving girl brought out their pizza, so they all returned to the table.

Pizza was a special type of flat bread covered with tomato sauce, melted cheese, and all sorts of vegetables and meat. Merlin was leery of how messy such a combination would be, but when he took his first bite, he thought he was in heaven.

“This is delicious,” he said with his mouth half full, which prompted Arthur to swallow and glare and say, “Manners!”

Merlin swallowed quickly and flashed an apologetic smile at the girls. “Sorry.”

“No worries,” Angel said. “Usually Bradley’s the one with terrible manners.”

Arthur looked a little surprised at this, but he continued eating with all the royal dignity he could muster.

“After we eat, can we go play Frisbee?” Merlin asked. He was feeling faintly cheated, that he hadn’t had a chance to play any of the modern games.

“Sure,” Katie said. “Maybe we’ll stick to the village green this time. I still have the Frisbee in my bag. Hopefully by the time we’re done playing Tony will have heard something from –”

A soft, high-pitched noise, like something chiming against a fine silver goblet, caused Katie to cut herself off, and then she rummaged through her purse. She came up with her mobile and answered it with a, “Hi, Joe.”

Her expression softened, and Merlin could only stare, dumbfounded, because he knew that expression all too well, and it was the one Arthur usually wore when Gwen secretly did something sweet for him, like leave him flowers in his chambers after tidying up. Merlin wondered if Morgana would look like that if she were ever in love.

“Who’s Joe?” Arthur asked.

“He’s Katie’s boyfriend. Sort of,” Angel said, and then she cast Merlin a look. “Would you like to talk to Joe?”

Merlin shrugged. “Is Colin friends with Joe?”

Katie had stood up from the table and moved away several paces, and she was nodding enthusiastically at whatever Joe was saying.

“Well,” Angel said, and she cast a sly look in Katie’s direction, “of a sort. Joe’s a good lad, but we give him a bit of a hard time for stealing the heart of our Katie. He needs reminding now and again that if he breaks her heart, Bradley and Colin will kill him and bury him in the Forest of Dean.”

Merlin blinked, wide-eyed at Angel’s casual mention of murder. “Oh. Erm. So you need me to threaten Joe? I think Arthur would be better at that sort of thing –”

Angel called out, “Katie, when you’re done, Colin wants to say hello to Joe.”

Katie glanced over her shoulder. “What?” She raised her eyebrows and looked at Merlin, then said something into her mobile. She strode back to the table and looked at Angel. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“It’d be nice,” Angel said, and something was going on that Merlin definitely didn’t understand.

Katie took a deep breath. “Fine. Just...be calm, _Colin_ , all right?” Then she said into her mobile, “Joe, Colin wants to say hello,” and thrust her mobile at Merlin.

Merlin fumbled to press it to his ear, and he felt strange doing so, but no one else seemed to think it was abnormal, so he said, “Hello, Joe.”

“Colin! How’ve you been, mate? Still on the first block? I wish this series really was only ten episodes – I want Katie back in London with me.”

Merlin felt his heart stop. The voice inside the mobile – it was Will.

“I’ve been...” Sad without you. “Fine,” Merlin choked out. He cast Angel and Katie looks, feeling shocked and confused, and they both smiled at him hopefully.

“Is Bradley being a prat? You know you shouldn’t let him bully you,” Joe said, and Merlin wondered if Joe even looked like Will, or if this was some strange coincidence.

“I won’t let him,” Merlin said faintly.

Joe laughed, and Merlin felt his insides clench. He knew that laugh, had heard it ring out on a summer’s day as he and Will fled from Goodwife Miller with pilfered apples. “There’s a good man. Maybe I’ll come up to visit you lot on set.”

“That would be great,” Merlin said. He knew he had to give the mobile back to Katie before he said something that would give the game away, make Joe realize that he wasn’t Colin, so he said, “Katie wants to talk to you again,” and shoved the mobile at her.

Arthur leaned across the table to him. “Merlin, are you all right?”

Merlin looked at Angel. “Did you know he would sound like – that?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Joe played Will in series one, and that’s around the time he and Katie started seeing each other. I thought it might be...nice. For you to hear his voice.”

Arthur sat back, his expression turning shuttered. “Will.” Then his expression turned speculative, and he said, very casually to Angel, “Do you remember who ‘played’ Ygraine?”

Angel bit her lip. “Her name is Alice Patten, but I – we don’t know her as well as we know Joe. We can’t just phone her. But...hang on.” She reached into her purse for her mobile and tapped on it rapidly. Then she held it out for Arthur to see. “Here.”

Arthur took it from her carefully, and Merlin saw his face go pale.

“You have a picture of her.”

“Well, not me specifically, no – I just found it on the Internet,” Angel said.

Arthur said, “I never knew what she looked like, growing up. Father had no pictures of her, and after Morgause, I wasn’t sure if that was even...”

“Well, that’s just Alice in costume,” Angel said. “But if history is anything to go by, then it’s safe to say that is what Ygraine looked like.”

Arthur swallowed hard. “Thank you, Angel.” He handed her mobile back to her and then sat back, his eyes shadowed, lost in contemplation.

Angel tapped something else rapid on her mobile and then handed it to Merlin. He should have expected it, but seeing Balinor’s face again, precisely the same as he’d looked when Merlin met him, made Merlin’s heart ache all over again.

“Thank you,” Merlin said quietly, and was stunned when Angel reached out and tugged him into a hug.

“Joe says he’ll come out to visit us next block – whoa, did I miss something?” Katie asked.

“Everything’s fine,” Arthur said, though his tone thoroughly belied his statement.

Merlin pulled back from Angel. “Everything is fine. Really. We should finish eating and go play with the Frisbee.”

“Excellent,” Katie said and slid back into the booth next to Arthur. “I suppose I’m lucky you lot didn’t eat everything yourselves while I was talking to Joe.”

Angel started up an easy conversation about aeroplanes, giant metal contraptions that flew in the sky to obviate the need of boats, and Merlin and Arthur could only listen, fascinated. After the pizza was finished, they paid the serving girl and left the restaurant.

The sun was low on the horizon and shadows criss-crossed the pavements, but there was still enough light for a game, or so Katie and Angel said, so the four of them headed to the village green. Katie was the best at throwing the Frisbee for demonstration purposes, so she showed them how to curve their wrists and throw it across the green to someone else.

“That doesn’t look too difficult,” Arthur said. “Of course, I am quite good at throwing things.”

“Indeed you are, Sire. You’re good at throwing things at my head,” Merlin said.

Arthur threw his head back and laughed, and the game began in earnest. Best as Merlin could tell, they were supposed to stand in a square and attempt to throw the Frisbee around the square as many times as possible without anyone dropping it, and every completed pass was a success.

Other people lingered on the village green, sitting on the wooden benches around the edges or on blankets on the grass, sharing food and chatting. Merlin was surprised to recognize one family sitting on a bench and watching them play. It was the family from the tavern the night before, the one with the little girl who’d been watching Arthur. She was watching him now, her blue eyes wide in fascination and awe.

Merlin was surprised at how well he could throw a Frisbee, and he always cheered like a fool when he sent it sailing through the air right at Angel so she could catch it. Arthur, oddly enough, was having difficulty learning how to make something round fly in a straight line, and more than once he sent the Frisbee sailing past Katie’s head. Sometimes, while Katie and Angel mocked him playfully, he would fetch the Frisbee himself, but more often than not someone else nearby would pick it up and toss it back to them.

“All right,” Katie declared, “that’s ten successful turns around the square. Now we’re going to throw it the other way!”

Angel widened her eyes comically. “Oooh, be careful,” she called to Merlin. “I might accidentally throw it at your head.”

“At least from you it’ll be an accident, unlike with certain other people,” Merlin said, and cast Arthur a look.

“Honestly,” Arthur said, “you just need to learn how to duck.”

The Frisbee-tossing resumed in the opposite direction, and Arthur was getting better, but he was still only completing passes half the time. Once the Frisbee went sailing high over Angel’s head, and she tried to leap to catch it, but she wasn’t tall enough. Arthur trotted after the bright pink disc, but before he got to it, the little girl from the bench wriggled out from between her parents and picked it up. When Arthur came close, she held it out to him and said, “For you, Prince Arfur.”

Arthur blinked, confused. But then he knelt down so he was eye-level with the little girl and said, as solemnly as if she were a visiting princess, “Thank you, My Lady.”

She beamed and handed him the Frisbee. Arthur smiled at her and accepted it. He rose up, and then he bowed and resumed his place in the square. The girl squealed delightedly and ran back to her parents on the bench, who hugged her and cast happy smiles in Arthur’s direction.

Katie giggled, and Angel made a cooing noise that Arthur manfully tried to brush off. Merlin watched the little girl out of the corner of his eye between passes, and she was watching Arthur’s every move. Merlin had never seen Arthur really talk to children before, and he’d always suspected Arthur would be as socially awkward with children as he was with most adults who weren’t nobility or palace servants, but knowing that Arthur was capable of being nice to children made Merlin feel warm inside.

Arthur sent the Frisbee flying far past Angel again, and Merlin was tempted to use magic to prevent the thing from straying past a certain point to avoid the delays of someone chasing after it, but then the Frisbee landed in the street.

“Hurry – go get it before a car runs over it,” Katie said.

Arthur nodded and broke into a trot, and then Merlin heard a cry of alarm. He turned and saw the little girl running into the street with a cry of “Found it!” Her parents screamed and lunged after her. Merlin started toward the girl, calling out, but she was putting all her concentration into trying to pick the Frisbee up off the street with her small hands. For one moment, Merlin was confused about what all the fuss was even though he was trying to help, and then he realized. The girl would be badly hurt if one of those speeding cars hit her.

As if fate had heard the horror in Merlin’s imagination, a car roared from somewhere down the street, and bright light from the torches mounted on its front cut through the twilight shadows. The little girl’s parents screamed again, and then, to Merlin’s terror, Arthur dove into the street. He caught the girl in his arms and hit the ground, rolled, and then all Merlin saw was the car.

Time seemed to slow down. Merlin heard a terrible high-pitched screech, and he heard the girl’s mother scream again, and then he heard the girl scream, but he didn’t hear Arthur.

Time kicked back into its proper speed and Merlin was on the side of the street next to the car, which had stopped dead. A young man leaped out of the car, and he was speaking rapidly, his voice shaking.

“I’m sorry – I didn’t see – I stopped as soon as I could –”

Merlin dashed around to the other side of the car and saw Arthur sprawled on the street, the girl tight in his arms while she wailed and screamed. Merlin fell to his knees at Arthur’s side.

“Sire, are you all right? What happened?”

“‘M fine,” Arthur muttered. Merlin helped ease him up into a sitting position, and Arthur settled the girl onto his lap.

“She’s crying. Are you all right?” Arthur asked, trying to get the girl to look at him.

Moments later, her parents arrived, Katie and Angel on their heels.

“Thank you,” the mother sobbed.

Arthur surrendered the child to her quickly. “I’m glad she’s safe,” he said, and his eyes went wide when the woman flung one arm around him and hugged him, still sobbing. Arthur cast Merlin a look. Merlin mimed patting the woman on the shoulder.

Arthur patted the woman on the shoulder gingerly and said, “All is well, madam. Everything is fine. Perhaps you should have the child examined by a physician –”

“You saved my baby’s life,” the woman said, and she was still hugging Arthur.

Her husband looked teary-eyed as well, which made Arthur look even more alarmed. “Thank you,” the man said, “for saving our little girl.”

“It was nothing,” Arthur said.

Merlin glanced over his shoulder and saw Katie yelling at the man who’d come out of the car.

“Your gratitude is most kind,” Arthur said to the sobbing woman, and there he was, devolving into his stilted courtier-speech like he did whenever he was feeling awkward.

The girl had stopped crying, and she wriggled around in her mother’s arms and flung her little arms around Arthur’s neck as well. Arthur looked like he had been set upon by another questing beast.

“It’s quite sweet, isn’t it?” Angel said, standing beside Merlin.

“I’m glad he’s alive is all,” Merlin said, and his heart was still racing. “He’s so stupidly heroic all the time.”

“Yes,” Angel said, and there was an odd catch to her voice. “He is.” She put a hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “There’s something I need to tell you. About Arthur and Gwen. When it happens, he’s going to need you to be there for him. He’s going to be angry and mean, I’m sure, but don’t give up on him, because he’ll never admit how much it hurts, and –”

Merlin’s eyes went wide. “Does Gwen...does she die?”

Angel blinked. “What? No! Well, everybody dies in the end, don’t they? But –”

Katie said, “Guys, I’ve just heard from Tony. He has the information we need.”


	11. Chapter 11

“It’s a sorry state of my existence, that I’m kicking myself for not having learnt Latin in school,” Bradley said. He and Colin were sitting side by side at the table in Arthur’s chambers, Gaius’s book between them. Gaius was standing behind them, leafing through a book of medicine.

“Your existence is quite sorry,” Colin agreed, and Bradley nodded his agreement distractedly before he registered the comment properly and shot Colin a look.

Colin grinned, wide and bright. “What? I’m just being honest.”

“Of course you are,” Bradley muttered. “Gaius, as soon as you’re finished –”

“I’ll be finished a lot sooner if you stop interrupting me,” Gaius said, and his exasperation was so utterly familiar that Bradley couldn’t help but laugh.

“Are we really going to sit here all night?” Colin asked.

“Arthur would take at least a little time to worry about his father, like he did for Morgana,” Bradley said quietly. “If anything needs my attention, Leon will handle it, and if he can’t, I’m sure he’ll let me know.”

“Are you all right?” Colin asked.

“I wasn’t injured. I’m fine,” Bradley said.

Colin bumped Bradley’s shoulder with his. “That wasn’t what I meant.”

Bradley took a deep breath. “I know. It’s just – I’ve never killed anyone before. I always knew it would happen one day, that I’d be stupid, run into a Technocrat, and it would be him or me.” He glanced at Colin, searching for the surprise he’d seen in his mother’s eyes when he’d first made the confession, but Colin was just looking at him, attentive and calm, so he continued. “But it would be one person, and it would be self-defense. I never imagined...this.”

“I don’t think anyone could have imagined this,” Colin said. “D’you think Arthur or Merlin could imagine anything they’re probably seeing in our world?”

“If they’re in our world at all,” Bradley said.

“What makes you say that?”

“This place is too like the series for comfort. If I didn’t know better, I’d think it was a pocket dimension created by a demented fan who has Correspondence magic, and we’re trapped here. Forever.” Bradley closed his eyes. Of all of his fears, this was the one he hadn’t wanted to tell Colin.

Beside him, Colin tensed. “Is that possible?”

“Yes,” Bradley said. “Theoretically, everything’s possible. I couldn’t begin to guess who would be this powerful, or if even a group of Mages could do this together, but...what if we’re stuck here? What if we’re never getting home?”

“Bradley,” Colin said in a small voice, “you’re scaring me.”

“Now, about that Latin translation,” Gaius said, and Bradley jumped.

Gaius stopped short. “Is everything all right?”

Bradley rubbed his temple. “It’s fine. Let’s do this.”

Gaius eyed them both. “You look exhausted. I’ll send for some food. Hold on a moment.”

“No cheese or meat for Colin,” Bradley said. “He can’t eat it.”

“Really?” Gaius raised his eyebrows at Bradley’s calm pronunciation about what was good for Colin’s health, and Bradley remembered vegetarians hadn’t existed way back whenever they were.

“I really can’t,” Colin said. “It makes me ill.” He smiled apologetically, and Gaius caved like a twelve-year-old fangirl.

“Of course,” he said, and he shuffled for the door.

Colin leaned close to Bradley. “Look, we’re going to get home, because it is possible. If this is a pocket dimension, our world still exists. We got in, so there’s got to be a way out.”

Bradley nodded. “I know. There’s a way for us to get home. I just...” He sighed. “This is all so horrifyingly real, yeah? It’s not like how it seemed at first. Merlin and Arthur – we don’t really know them, not like I thought we did.”

“On the contrary,” Colin said. “I think you know Merlin and Arthur very well, and you’re doing what Arthur would, which is the best you can. And come on – you’re keeping a nighttime vigil for a man who would see you dead in a heartbeat if he knew who and what you really are.”

“I suppose you’re right. Fortunately for me, I happen to look just like his one and only son.” Bradley smiled to let Colin know his efforts at cheering Bradley up weren’t wasted, and Colin smiled back.

Colin grinned and said, in his best Scottish burr, “Take me to Glasgow.”

It worked every time. Bradley burst out laughing and immediately had to stifle the sound so as not to alarm the guards outside. Then there was a knock at the door, so Bradley had to clear his throat and summon some Arthurian hauteur.

“Enter.”

The door swung open, and there was Gwen holding a tray loaded with enough food for three people, Gaius lingering behind her. She set the tray on the table in front of Colin.

“Is everything all right, Arthur?” she asked.

“Father’s unconscious, but Gaius says he’ll recover,” Bradley said. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” she said. “I wasn’t hurt in the attack. I was helping down in the laundry, and we all hid. Lancelot made sure all the castle staff was secure.”

“Good,” Arthur said. “Lancelot is an excellent knight – thoughtful, thorough.”

Gaius sat down at the table next to Colin and heaved the big green book close. “Let’s have a go at this Latin, then, shall we?”

Gwen eyed the book, then the books on the table. “Is there anything I can help with?”

“We were just reading,” Bradley said.

Gwen raised her eyebrows. “Reading?”

“I can read,” Bradley said.

“He just doesn’t do it often,” Colin quipped, “so he needs help.”

Bradley shot him a withering look. “On the contrary, I am very well-read. I just don’t have time to read for pleasure while I am attending to my princely duties.”

Gwen was trying to hide an amused smile and failing. “Really, Arthur? I’ve heard rumors that you sing, but reading is something else altogether.”

“He didn’t enjoy it much as a boy,” Gaius said, still poring over the green book.

“I learned to enjoy it,” Bradley protested, because Arthur would. Truth was, he didn’t enjoy reading nearly as much as Colin did, but he likely enjoyed reading much more than Arthur did.

“What sorts of things did you enjoy reading?” Gwen asked, and she clearly didn’t believe him.

“Poetry,” Bradley said promptly.

Even Colin raised his eyebrows.

Bradley rose up and walked around the table to stand in front of Gwen. Then he took her hand in his and leaned in, lowered his voice so it was low and husky. It was some sort of bizarre and patriotic requirement of British drama students, that they all learn to recite Shakespearean sonnets properly.

“My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun,” he began, and Gwen blinked, confused.

Colin stifled a snort.

Bradley continued as if he were comparing Gwen to a summer’s day.

“Coral is far more red than her lips' red;  
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;  
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.”

Gwen’s eyes went wide, and she looked ready to either snatch her hand back or slap Bradley across the face or both, but he continued to gaze at her earnestly.

“I have seen roses damask'd, red and white,  
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;   
And in some perfumes is there more delight  
Than in the breath that from my mistress –” he leaned in and whispered – “reeks.”

At that, Gaius made a low noise of disapproval.

“Arthur,” Gwen began, her tone reproving, but Bradley went on.

“I love to hear her speak, yet well I know  
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;  
I grant I never saw a goddess go;  
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground.”

Gwen twitched, likely getting ready to pull away from him, but Bradley was a professional actor, and he was going for total victory. He smiled, tugged her hand close so it was resting over where his heart beat, and he finished the poem.

“And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare  
As any she belied with false compare.”

Gwen blinked again, still surprised, but happily so. “Oh. Arthur. That was – very sweet.”

“Only at the end,” Colin said. “You really do have a way with the ladies, Sire.”

Bradley grinned and stepped back from Gwen, ready to make a witty and slightly off-color comment, and then he remembered who he was supposed to be and who Gwen was, and he said, “There’s only one lady that matters.”

Gwen was looking at him like she wanted to kiss him then and there, and Bradley realized his longform improv had gone from witty and brilliant to very, very wrong.

“Right,” Colin said. “Back to the book.”

“Of course,” Bradley said.

But Gwen put her hand on his arm and said, “Can I speak to you for a moment? Alone?”

Bradley nodded and started for the door.

“Merlin, Gaius, I’ll be back shortly,” he said.

Gaius nodded distractedly, squinting at the book, but Colin looked worried.

Bradley followed Gwen out of Arthur’s chambers and into the corridor, and he was utterly unprepared for the moment when the door shut and Gwen leaned in and captured his mouth with hers. He knew he’d bottled the whole thing as soon as it happened, because he felt himself tense up, felt his shoulders go rigid under her hands. Even though he was an actor, kissing wasn’t something he did easily (that bathroom stall scene in _Dis/connected_ had been utterly mortifying, but he’d needed the money and the resumé padding), and the first time Angel had kissed him he’d reacted like a repulsed twelve-year-old.

Gwen yanked herself backward, worry in her eyes. “Arthur, what’s wrong?”

For the second time that day, Bradley was saved from having to deal with a difficult question by the peal of the warning bells.

Bradley’s gratitude at being saved in so unfortunate a manner was diminished when Lancelot came careening around the corner, sword drawn.

“Arthur!”

He came up short when he saw Gwen standing so close to Bradley.

“What’s going on? Why have the bells tolled?” Bradley asked.

“The prisoners. They’ve escaped,” Lancelot said.

“Do we know where they’re headed?”

“Gwaine and Elyan have ridden out on their trail, but if they use magic...” Lancelot trailed off.

Bradley nodded once, sharply. “We’ll catch up with them. Send a page to ready the horses. Tell Leon he’s in charge while I’m gone. Have him send someone up to watch over my father so Gaius can return to his patients. Find Percival. We ride out immediately.”

Lancelot bobbed his head. “Yes, Sire.” He cast Gwen a quick sidelong glance and then dashed away.

Bradley hollered over his shoulder, “Merlin!”

The door banged open, and Colin popped into the hallway, the green book still tucked under his arm.

“What’s going on?”

“We ride out immediately. We’re tracking the prisoners who just escaped. Did you get what we needed from Gaius?”

“Yes,” Colin said.

“Good,” Bradley said. “Let’s go.” He started to go, then paused, turned back to Gwen. She looked distressed and wouldn’t meet his gaze. Bradley glanced over his shoulder and said to Colin, “Go on.”

Colin nodded and loped off down the corridor. Bradley saw him blow past the stairs, do an about face, and then dash down the stairs at a breakneck pace.

“Arthur, what’s wrong?” Gwen asked. “Have I done something to upset you? Some moments you’re affectionate, and others...” She fidgeted with the hem of her pinafore.

Bradley had never thought he’d have to give the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech to the future Queen Guinevere. “I’m not upset,” he said, and he really wasn’t. “Things are just...complicated right now. They’ll sort themselves out when I return, I promise.” He was hoping the real Arthur would be the one to return, but if he had to face Gwen again, then he would do his best to do right by her.

“All right,” Gwen said, and she sounded unhappy.

Bradley leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek, then straightened up. “I’ll be back,” he said. Then he turned away and headed for the stairs, and he felt like an utter prat for hoping he would never have to come back.

Colin, Lancelot, and Percival were waiting down by the stables with horses when Bradley arrived, clad in borrowed armor and carrying a borrowed sword.

“Ready?” he asked.

In answer, the other three swung up onto their horses. They rode out of Camelot at a full gallop, but once they reached the trees they had to slow. Luckily for Bradley, Percival took point with tracking the hunting blazes Gwaine and Elyan had left on the trees, so Bradley could fall back a bit and speak to Colin.

“Do you have the book with you?”

“No, but Gaius wrote me a translation. It’s more of a summary, but it should do us just fine,” he said.

“Good.” Bradley nodded and then urged his horse forward when Percival asked for his prince’s advice. Bradley could only hope that he hadn’t ordered them to ride to their deaths.

They caught up to Gwaine and Elyan just over the border into Cenred’s old territory. The two of them had stopped to examine a set of tracks, and they’d both drawn their swords as the horses approached.

“What have you found?” Bradley asked.

“We think they’re heading back to that cave where we found the shield,” Elyan said. “Their tracks are overriding our old ones almost league for league.”

“Then we ride till we overtake them,” Bradley said. “I trust you both to continue leading the tracking.”

“Of course,” Gwaine said, and he leaped into the saddle.

Bradley trusted their skill, but just to be safe, he took a moment to close his eyes and look at the Tapestry, and yes, they were going in the right direction. He could still see the disrupted threads from other magic users passing through this area, and he recognized some of the magical signatures from the battle earlier.

“Are we on the right track?” Colin asked.

“So far,” Bradley said.

“And if we get off track?”

“I’ll get us back on.”

They rode hard, pausing to track the fleeing Blood Guard. Whenever Gwaine and Elyan jumped off their horses to examine a set of tracks, Bradley jumped off his horse as well and walked around, stretched, did anything to keep awake, because blast it all, he hadn’t had any of the food Gwen had brought up to Arthur’s chambers.

They skipped the Ridge of Ascetir, following the Blood Guard’s tracks from where they deviated from the path that had brought Bradley, Colin, and the knights into Camelot the day before (was it a day before? How was it only one day before?), and they were forced to stop and water the horses at what Elyan determined was the halfway point.

“They need to rest,” Percival agreed.

“And we need to plan our attack once we reach the cave,” Lancelot said. “Ten men managed to escape, which means they outnumber us by four, but if we pin them at the entrance, we can thin out their numbers before launching a full-scale assault.”

Gwaine nodded and set about rubbing down his horse while it grazed. “Merlin,” he said, jolting Colin out of his stupor where he was rubbing down his stallion, “these Blood Guards will likely have an outer ring of defense...traps, won’t they? You should scout ahead, see what they have, and report back.”

Colin nodded, glanced at Bradley.

Bradley nodded back. “I’ll go with Merlin and see if they left any perimeter guards as well. Once the traps are disarmed and all the escaped prisoners are accounted for, we’ll return and attack from there.”

Elyan used a stick to draw in the dirt, diagram the entrance to the cave and the clearing outside of it.

“If we break through their outer defenses – say they spare two guards at most – then they’ll only outnumber us by two. Gwaine and I brought some archery gear, so we can shoot them from the treeline before advancing with swords,” he said. He looked up at Colin and grinned. “I remembered – they can’t hit what they can’t see.”

“Excellent,” Bradley said, and he knew he sounded Arthur-pleased, in that tense way Arthur got before a battle, but inside he was filled with a sickening sense of dread. If he and Colin went to disarm any magical traps – and Bradley still wasn’t entirely sure what he could and couldn’t do here in this magical realm – there was every chance they’d encounter a guard alone, and they’d have to kill him.

Bradley tightened his grip on his sword. No. Colin shouldn’t have to kill anyone. Bradley had already done it once, had resolved to do it long ago once he learned the dangers of the Technocracy. It was his job to protect Colin, and he would do so with everything he had.

Once the horses were rested enough to continue, they set off at a hard gallop. Bradley thought they’d been riding forever. Surely the sun was going to come up, but then Gwaine signaled for a halt, and they all dismounted. Percival tethered the horses together at a nearby tree, and they all drew their swords. Even Colin had a sword, and however clumsy Merlin was, Colin was actually decent with a sword, which Bradley was glad for. He was also thankful Andreas had insisted he learn to move quietly through the trees so he looked the part during hunting scenes. Bradley had learned because he cared about his craft; he’d never thought his dedication to acting might one day save his life. If there were any Blood Guards posted in the trees beyond the clearing, Bradley and Colin were in for a world of trouble if the Guards discovered them first.

Bradley gestured for Colin to follow him, and they headed into the trees together. Colin, by virtue of having older brothers and the prank wars those entailed, was also much better than Merlin at sneaking quietly, but Bradley was still unnerved by the silence as they crept through the trees. A few paces away from the others Bradley signaled for a halt, and then he closed his eyes, searched the Tapestry. There was no disruption nearby, which meant no wards had been set. Colin nudged him, and he opened his eyes, gestured for them to continue on.

As Elyan had predicted, there were two perimeter guards. As soon as Bradley saw the first, he ducked behind a tree and pulled Colin with him. Then he tried a Merlin and used his magic to levitate a branch and swing it at one guard’s head. The guard toppled over with an ugly thud, and when the other turned to see what was going on, Bradley clobbered him too. Maybe it was the rush of magic through his blood, maybe it was pre-battle adrenaline, but Bradley could see why Merlin liked doing that. It was fun. He hadn’t felt the telltale roil of death through the tapestry, so he and Colin each used some rope (thoughtfully provided by Percival) to tie up the guards, and then they headed back to the others.

“Two guards, no traps,” Bradley said. “They’re down to eight men now. Let’s get into position.”

Gwaine and Elyan took up post with crossbows just beyond the edge of the clearing while Percival and Lancelot stood ready with their swords. Bradley had ordered Colin to ‘stay back and let his magic do the work’ as a matter of show for Lancelot and Gwaine.

As luck would have it, there were two more guards posted just at the entrance to the cave, likely keeping an eye on the pilfered horses tethered nearby.

“How many do we want to keep alive?” Gwaine asked.

Bradley thought quickly. “The most powerful and the most senior are the important ones. Unfortunately, I don’t know how to discern their ranks. As many as possible, I suppose. If we must, we can keep them overnight, have someone ride back to Camelot for an escort. With Merlin, we should be able to keep them under control.”

“What if one of them has more magic than Merlin?” Lancelot asked.

Bradley smiled. “That’s not going to be a problem.”

Lancelot blinked, surprised, and glanced at Colin, but Colin just shrugged, Merlin-sweet and Merlin-clueless, and then Bradley gave the signal to Gwaine and Elyan.

They let loose with bolts and set about reloading. Both guards were killed instantly, but their dying cries upset the horses, and sure enough, six more men came spilling out of the cave. Lancelot and Percival managed to dispatch two before Gwaine and Elyan picked off two more, and Bradley found himself face-to-face with the man who’d spat at Uther.

“Well, if it isn’t Uther Pendragon’s spawn.” The man sneered and swung his sword.

Bradley parried desperately, stepped back to avoid a blow, attempted to land one of his own. A real sword was much heavier than a stunt sword, and getting it to strike true was harder than Bradley realized. Fear rose in his throat, and he tried to choke it down, but the man advanced, swung at him again. Bradley blocked, but the blow was so hard it jarred his arm almost numb, and he knew, with a strange surety, that he was going to die.

And then he felt his magic stir the air, felt the Tapestry sing to him, and he pushed, and the man went flying. He hit the wall beside the cave entrance with a sickening crack and hit the ground, and then there was only one left. Gwaine punched the man across the face and knocked him out, and that was the end of that.

Bradley was breathing hard, and Gwaine was looking at him again, the same way he’d looked at Bradley when he’d run into Bradley at the top of the stairs, so Bradley turned and called over his shoulder, “Thanks, Merlin.”

Colin came storming out of the trees. “Are you mad? You almost got yourself killed.”

“I was fine,” Bradley said. “I knew you were watching out for me.”

“Of course I was!” Colin snapped, and then he paused, took a deep breath. Gwaine looked amused.

“How many survivors are there?” Elyan asked.

“Four – the one I hit, and the one Gwaine hit,” Colin said. “And then the two guards in the trees.”

Bradley nodded, secretly grateful that he hadn’t killed another man. “Fetch the two we tied up, tie up the other two, and let’s make camp. In case they were planning on meeting anyone else here, someone should take watch.”

The knights nodded, and Percival, Elyan, and Lancelot headed into the trees to fetch the horses and prisoners, and Gwaine and Bradley tied up the other two. Colin started to clear a space for a fire and the bedrolls, and once all four prisoners were secured and the horses were tied nearby, everyone pitched in to set up camp and unload the saddlebags. Percival, who was a veritable boy scout, had remembered a healthy supply of food along with rope for the prisoners, so no one had to go out and forage.

“Tomorrow, we’ll take them back to Camelot,” Bradley said.

The knights nodded, busy tearing into their food, and Bradley suspected most of them had been interrupted at or missed dinner when the warning bells tolled.

“Merlin and I have first watch,” Bradley added, and there it was, the familiar look of reproach from Lancelot.

But Colin said, “Of course, Sire,” and patted his jacket pocket meaningfully. He had Gaius’s translation.

“We should start a fire,” Elyan said. He knelt down beside the ring of stones Colin had set out neatly and reached into the pouch at his hip for his flint and tinder, but Gwaine put a hand on his arm.

“Let Merlin do it,” he said.

Elyan blinked. “Why? I’m just fine at it.”

“Merlin can do it more surely than any of us, and he can do it every time,” Gwaine said. He shot Bradley a look. “I think you’ve been holding out on us, Arthur, making us suffer through so many of your fumbling attempts while we’ve been out on hunting trips.”

Colin glanced at Bradley, who shrugged and gestured toward the fire.

“It’s true then, Sire?” Percival asked.

“It’s Arthur, and is what true?” Bradley asked. He was discreetly reaching for Arthur’s ring.

“That Merlin has magic,” Percival said.

Elyan blinked. “What?”

“Apparently you missed the more interesting part of the day,” Gwaine said. “When Uther kicked us out of the Council Room, it was to question Arthur about Merlin’s magic and possibly have Merlin killed.”

“But the rumor going around was that Arthur is the one with magic,” Percival said.

“He lied to protect Merlin,” Lancelot said, and though his smile at Merlin was fond, there was an undercurrent to his tone that made Bradley a little nervous.

“Are you afraid of me now?” Colin asked, and he cocked his head quizzically, and he looked so much like the baby deer the fangirls made him out to be that Percival and Elyan actually looked a little guilty.

“No, of course not,” Elyan said. “You’re our friend, and we know you’d never hurt us. I mean, you even used your magic to save the King, who would surely have you killed.”

“And he saved Gwen,” Bradley added.

Elyan blinked. “What? When?”

“Loads of times. With his magic,” Bradley said.

Colin slewed him a look. “How long have you known, exactly?”

“Longer than you give me credit for,” Bradley said. He gestured toward the ring of stones. “Go on. Do it.”

So Colin stretched out his hand and said, _“Forbaerne,”_ and Bradley turned Arthur’s ring, and flames danced on the kindling.

Elyan yelped and fell back on his rear, which caused Gwaine to laugh and even Lancelot to stifle a smile.

Percival stared at the flames for a long moment and finally said, “That’s a useful skill.”

“Isn’t it?” Gwaine grinned and clapped Colin on the shoulder. “Well, I think I’ve earned myself some rest. Wake me when it’s my watch.” And he headed to his bedroll.

The others murmured various good-nights and retired to their bedrolls, leaving Bradley and Colin huddled side-by-side next to the fire.

“So...what now?” Colin asked.

Bradley rubbed his eyes; he was exhausted. “Let’s have a look at that translation.”

* * *

Tony met them in the hotel lobby. He was clutching a sheaf of parchment and his hair was wildly mussed, and he looked like Gaius did after a late night of experimenting with a new medicine.

Katie looked him up and down and said, “Back to the Giles look, are we?”

“It just came through the fax machine,” Tony said. “Come have a look.”

Merlin stepped up to peer over his shoulder at the parchment in his hand. “Is it a terribly long spell?”

“I think the spell nerd was a closet _Buffy_ fan,” Tony said.

Katie arched an eyebrow. “Like Bradley was a closet _Buffy_ fan?”

“Much more enthusiastic,” Tony said.

Arthur asked, “What’s a Buffy?”

“It was another series Tony worked on before this one,” Angel said. “It dealt with a lot of magic. So...what’s the veritable novel for, then?”

“Apparently when I asked for a spell poor Enid was overcome, and instead of providing some simple Anglo-Saxon, she created an entire ritual,” Tony explained. “Luckily for us, I’m quite sure most of these ingredients can be found at a local Asda. We just need a car and a few hours and we’re good to go.”

“Ritual?” Angel asked. She peered at Merlin. “Do you know how to do ritual magic?”

Arthur turned to Merlin. “Do you?”

“I’ve never really had to do it before,” Merlin said. “Gaius usually makes the potions. Most times I just –” He stretched one hand out and wiggled his fingers for effect.

“Well, Tony, I guess the one with the experience here is you,” Katie said.

“The problem being, of course, that I don’t actually have magic,” Tony pointed out, and it was so strange, hearing that sentence come from a man who was Uther Pendragon’s clone.

Angel took the parchment from him and rifled through it. “I suspect you’d be a sight better than Merlin at deciphering what the spell nerd meant by ‘lovesblossom, scarlet and argent tapers, and pearl-mansions’.”

“Roses, red and white candles, and seashells,” Tony said distractedly.

Katie grinned. “Sounds like we need to spend some quality time in the home decor section. The question is, of course, who has a car?”

“Bradley – he’s the one with a license,” Angel said. Then she glanced at Arthur. “Oh. That could be a problem.”

“Where’s the nearest Asda anyway?” Tony asked.

“I’ll check my mobile. One of you sort out transportation,” Angel said.

“I can drive,” Tony said. “I lived in America for a while. Everyone over there drives. We just need Bradley’s keys is all.”

“Arthur can let us into Bradley’s room,” Katie said. “Let’s go.”

The group headed for the stairs, Angel stumbling a bit because she was distracted by her mobile. Merlin had taken the parchment from Angel and was reading through it. The ritual didn’t look too complicated, but for the bizarre descriptions of candles, incense, herbs, colored stones, seashells, and other things for a ‘casting circle’. The actual spell itself was a very simple _take us home_.

Arthur unlocked Bradley’s room and Merlin could only watch in amusement – Arthur was alarmed – as Katie began poking through Bradley’s things. Angel shoved her mobile at Tony with a _see if you know how to get there_ and joined in Katie’s search.

“What’s an Asda?” Bradley asked.

“It’s a shop,” Tony said. “A giant shop, like an entire marketplace all in one shop. It’s very convenient, and things there aren’t very expensive.”

“Merlin and I will help finance our way home,” Arthur said, “but I doubt either of us would be effective at bargaining. Would you help us?”

“There’s no bargaining in most stores these days,” Tony said. “You can’t bargain at an Asda. The price is simply as listed on the item.”

“Oh. Of course. That makes things much simpler,” Arthur said, though he was clearly bewildered at such a notion as no bargaining.

Angel let out a cry of triumph and jangled a set of keys high over her head. “Found them! Let’s go take Bradley’s car for a drive.”

They left Bradley’s room, and Merlin carefully locked the door before giving the room key to Arthur, and then they all trooped out of the hotel to the place where the van originally dropped Arthur and Merlin off the day before.

“How long has it been since you’ve driven, Tony?” Katie asked.

Tony took the keys gingerly from Angel and started toward a blue car. It was much smaller than the white van, and Merlin was dubious as to whether they could all fit in the car together.

“I didn’t drive in LA often. California drivers are terribly aggressive,” Tony said, “and it’s been a while, but I reckon I can manage, so long as the lot of you behave.”

“Of course,” Katie said. “We’ll all behave perfectly, won’t we, boys?”

“Of course,” Arthur agreed, though he seemed distracted by the logistics of fitting everyone into the car as well.

As Merlin was the tallest, he was granted the honor of riding in the front of the car beside Tony, which left the other three to ride in the back all wedged together with Angel in the middle because she was the smallest. Merlin watched, wide-eyed, as Tony slid the key into part of the car, as smooth a motion as if he were stabbing the car, but then Tony twisted the key, and the car rumbled to life.

Music exploded from everywhere in the car.

“ – _Try and understand it.  
Make it loud and make it clear!  
Whoa...._”

“What the bloody –” Tony fumbled along the front of the car, but the music didn’t abate, and Merlin clapped his hands over his ears it was so loud.

Angel leaned forward between the front seats and prodded a single shiny, round button at the front of the car, and the music cut off abruptly.

“Those boys and their John Farnham.” She shook her head and sat back. “Ready when you are, Tony.”

Tony nodded, clearly tense. Merlin felt bad for him, but he suspected any attempts to help with his magic would only make things worse. Tony guided the car away from the hotel and onto the roads. Angel, who was back in possession of her mobile, was giving him directions about when and where to turn. Merlin watched, awed, as the buildings passed, so fast that they seemed as though they were only brief streaks of color against the twilight. He was jolted out of his awe when someone prodded him in the ribs. He twisted around in his seat to look over his shoulder and saw Arthur looking at him, blue eyes solemn.

“Can you do it?” he asked.

“Do what?” Merlin asked.

Arthur nodded at the bundle of parchment Merlin had been unknowingly twisting in his hands. “The spell. Can you make it work?”

“I can do the incantation and the ritual and the like,” Merlin said, “but sometimes spells don’t always work on the first try. We might have to do it twice, or even three times.” He frowned down at his hands. “Once I was up all night, casting the same spell over and over again to try to dislodge a rockfall.”

“Rockfall?” Arthur aked.

“That the Catrina troll used to trap me in her nest under the castle so I couldn’t interrupt her wedding to Uther,” Merlin said.

“All night?” Arthur scrubbed a hand over his face. “We’ll do what we have to. Camelot needs us.”

“Albion needs us,” Merlin corrected gently.

The Asda marketplace was a good half hour away, and the sun had completely set by then, but the car had its own lights, and they cut a swathe of steady gold through the darkness as Tony guided the car along the road. Even though Tony had explained that an entire market was inside one building, Merlin wasn’t prepared for the massive white-and-glass structure that reared up out of the darkness. It was surrounded by hundreds of cars, and Tony parked Bradley’s car in a frighteningly small space. Merlin was cautious as he opened his door, and he ended up squeezing his way out from between Bradley’s car and a massive black van.

“Let’s go find a trolley and then we’ll take it aisle by aisle,” Katie said. “That’s how my mum always does it. She says that way you won’t miss anything you need and won’t have to waste time doubling back.”

“What’s a trolley?” Merlin asked, trotting beside her and trying to smooth out his sheaf of parchment.

“It’s a shopping basket, a massive one with wheels on it, so you don’t have to carry everything all at once. It’d be impossible to carry it all,” Angel said.

Merlin turned to Arthur, who was striding along behind Tony as if Tony were Uther and father and son were headed into battle together.

“Did you hear that, Arthur? You should commission one of those from the palace engineer so I don’t have to lump around all your purchases whenever you deign to grace the market with your presence,” Merlin said.

Arthur raised his eyebrows. “You’re my manservant, Merlin. Carrying my things is your job.”

“But you always ask me to carry too much, and then you get annoyed when I drop things,” Merlin said. “If I had a trolley, I wouldn’t drop anything.”

“Somehow,” Arthur said, “I think you’d figure out how, just to annoy me.”

“Yes, well, when you’re being a prat you deserve it,” Merlin said.

The glass doors at the front of the Asda slid open without anyone touching them, which made Arthur jump, because it was definitely like magic, but Angel patted Merlin on the hand and explained, “Electricity,” before setting off across the gleaming white floors.

Everything was white – the floors, the lights, the shelves on which the wares were displayed. The signs were all blues and yellows, and Merlin quickly sussed out that the people in the blue vests were market servants, but the metal, the plastic, the everything was so white that Merlin was afraid he was going to get it all horribly muddy with his presence alone.

Katie and Angel headed toward a section of shelves over which hung a blue-and-yellow sign that read ‘home furnishings’. Tony followed them a moment later, and he was pushing a metal woven basket on wheels – a trolley.

“Do you have the list, Merlin?” Tony asked.

Merlin gazed at the rows upon rows of things that seemed to stretch out toward infinity. The whole world was for sale in this place.

“Stop gawping and come on,” Arthur said, and he dragged Merlin over toward the others.

Merlin smoothed out the sheet. “All right, here’s the list. We need, er...” He felt his head begin to swim when he stared down at the seemingly endless requirements for sea stones, the scent of purple ease, and other cryptic, girly-looking things. Enid was a girl’s name here too, wasn’t it? Tony had said the spell nerd’s name was Enid. She’d written her list in girl-code.

Katie rolled her eyes and plucked the list from his hand. “Men. Can’t trust them to decorate anything. I’ll read, and you three will fetch,” she said imperiously. “Angel, we need candles in red and white – tapers, not votives.”

Angel plucked two boxes off a nearby shelf, and indeed they held candles in the appropriate colors. She placed them in the trolley, and Katie crossed something off the list.

“Arthur, we need a green candle, this one votive. Merlin, run down to the end and fetch me some silk roses, and also a different silk flower, preferably a purple one if you can find one,” Katie said.

Merlin nodded obediently and set off toward the end of the aisle where vases and vases of flowers, freshly picked even this late in the day, were splashing color across the white world. When Gaius sent Merlin on a plant-fetching mission, Merlin had a basket to pack whole plants and preserve the roots in some soil, or he used a knife to cut the ones he wanted, but he had no knife, and he had no way to pack any soil around any of the roots. He prowled close to a bundle of roses and reached out – and recoiled sharply. What looked like a real rose felt like the cloth of a woman’s dress.

Merlin stared at the flower, confused, and then Angel said, “Don’t worry, they’re not real. We need a few roses – Tony says seven – and one purple flower.

“Grab one of the fake lavender,” Katie added.

Merlin reached out, cautious for thorns, and plucked seven of the roses free of the bunch, and then he plucked a lavender from a different pot. They looked real, the petals bright and velvety as if lush with life, but they had no roots, and the roses had no thorns. It was uncanny. Merlin bore them back to the trolley cautiously and saw Arthur puzzling over an array of candles that came in seemingly all colors, shapes, and sizes.

“Votives are the small, flat ones,” Tony said.

Arthur picked up a candle that had been, puzzlingly, jammed into a jar.

Tony sighed and picked up a tiny, circular candle in pale green. “This is a votive candle. How about you watch the trolley and I help with the shopping?”

“Ooh, Tony knows the difference between a votive and a taper,” Katie said. “You’re such a thespian.”

Something about the way she lisped the last word made Angel laugh, and Tony laughed too, but he simply said, “I’ve been with Sarah for a very long time. She’s taught me to be useful round the house.”

Merlin supposed that Sarah was Tony’s wife and wondered what she was like, if she was anything like Ygraine. Arthur assumed Tony’s position beside the trolley with all the dignity he could muster, head held high, fingers curled tightly around the push-bar, but his cheeks were a tell-tale blush of pink.

“Next aisle,” Katie said, and they followed her obediently. For the most part, the fetching and carrying wasn’t difficult, although a few times Angel and Katie had to enlist Tony’s help to decipher an item or two on the list. As it turned out, ‘sea stones’ were just pieces of blue glass smoothed to look like little round rocks that the girls called ‘marbles’ and were apparently used for decorating glass bowls used to house fish as pets (though why anyone would keep a fish as a pet when it was better for food was beyond Merlin). At the end of the shopping quest, they were armed with flowers, candles, colored stones, sea shells, some decorative feathers, a large bottle of lavender oil, matches (modern flint and tinder, best as Merlin could tell), a large container of salt (Arthur’s eyes went wide when he saw how cheap so much salt was), and two fancy-looking cushions, like the kind used to decorate Morgana’s bed.

“Do we really need the cushions?” Angel asked.

Tony studied the spell. “Er. I suppose the cushions would be for our comfort. I’m guessing Enid assumed the spell would be performed Willow-and-Tara style in a proper room as opposed to a cave.”

“We have to go back to the cave for the spell?” Arthur asked.

Merlin nodded. “It makes the most sense. It was where the gate between worlds was opened, so we’ll have to return there.”

“What if Bradley and Colin aren’t in the cave where they are?” Arthur asked.

“Colin’s a smart lad – I’m sure he’ll have sussed it out by now. He understands, better than anyone, how magic ought to work, because he’s been playing Merlin for over three years now,” Tony said, and his tone was kind and reassuring.

A bored-looking girl with black but somehow not diseased-looking fingernails handled payment, which involved passing the items across a pane of glass, a curious beeping sound, and green numbers slowly adding themselves up. Arthur used the colored parchment in Bradley’s wallet to pay for everything while Angel and Katie bounced behind him impatiently.

“Have a nice night,” the girl said, barely making eye-contact.

“You as well,” Arthur said, and he inclined his head politely.

“Out to the car – let’s go,” Tony said, and his voice was oddly hoarse.

Merlin turned to him, concerned. “Tony, are you all right? You sound a bit ill. Do we need to purchase some medicine or cough tonic or –”

“Let’s go,” Tony said again, and the teenage girl’s head snapped up.

Her eyes went wide, and she shrieked, “Bloody hell! You’re Tony Head!”

Merlin saw Tony turn a bit red, but Tony lifted his head and smiled politely.

“Indeed, I am. Good evening.”

“I am the world’s biggest Buffy fan,” the girl babbled. To Merlin’s horror, she ripped open her blue vest. “See?”

Arthur made a choking sound and turned away quickly, and Merlin did the same, but then Angel cleared her throat pointedly, and Merlin opened his eyes. The girl was wearing a black tunic beneath her blue vest, and it was emblazoned with the words _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_. Then she closed her vest and pointed to a myriad of bright buttons on her vest that read incomprehensible things like “Once More With Feeling” and “Giles Fan”. She beamed as she showed the buttons off.

“That’s wonderful,” Tony said, and he almost sounded like he meant it.

The girl, who had looked barely animate while dealing with Arthur, was now alive and bright with excitement. “This is wicked cool! What are you doing at an Asda?”

“Buying things,” Tony said, a little helplessly.

“My friends are never going to believe this,” the girl said. “Can I get a photo with you?”

“Of course,” Tony said, and the girl thrust her mobile at Merlin. Then she stepped out from behind her desk and pressed herself against Tony’s side in a frankly scandalous fashion, and Merlin would forever be randomly assaulted with images of teenage scullery maids pressing themselves against King Uther.

“Just press the button near the bottom,” the girl said, and leaned up, pressed a kiss to Tony’s cheek.

Tony took it all with good grace, but Merlin didn’t have a clue how to use the mobile, and it seemed the girl had no desire to remove herself from Tony’s person while Merlin fumbled with the device. Finally Katie took it from him and snapped a picture of the girl, and then she handed the mobile back.

“Thanks a ton,” the girl said, beaming at Katie. “My mates will absolutely go mad with jealousy.” She grinned at Tony. “When are you gonna get done with being an evil hateful king and go back to being a sexy librarian?”

The words ‘sexy’ and ‘librarian’ had never been in the same sentence in Merlin’s mind, because the only librarian he knew was Geoffrey, and Merlin suddenly wanted to be sick, just a little bit. Next to him, he felt Arthur go tense, and he realized that the enthusiastic girl had just called Arthur’s father an evil hateful king.

“Who knows what the future will bring,” Tony said diplomatically.

Katie caught him by the elbow and started tugging him toward the doors. “I hate to cut this short, but we have some universe-saving witchcraft to get to. Have a lovely evening.”

Tony waved and allowed himself to be tugged along, and Merlin and Arthur followed. Angel brought up the rear, giggling madly.

Once outside, Katie let Tony go, and she strode alongside him, looking vastly amused.

“Tony, you’re a TV veteran, and you’ve been to loads of cons. Surely you’re a pro with the strange fans by now,” she said.

Tony shrugged, the gesture oddly defensive. “Buffy fans aren’t usually quite so...enthusiastic...these days.”

“Except Bradley,” Angel said.

“Yes, well, he’s never groped me at the check-out counter or kissed me,” Tony said, and Merlin was struck with another horrible image of Uther.

“Let’s load everything into the car and get back to the hotel so we can see precisely how this spell has to go,” Katie said.

“Let’s,” Tony agreed.

As it turned out, Bradley’s car had a little storage hatch in the back, so they placed all the bags inside and then squashed themselves back into the car. Arthur rode in the front at Katie’s request, because she said she had something important she needed Merlin to see.

“Assuming this spell goes right, you’ll be home in no time at all,” Katie said, her voice low and serious. “Before you go, there’s something I want you to know. Watch this, and learn.” She handed Merlin her mobile turned sideways, and there were three characters massive on the screen, VH1.

“What does that mean?” Merlin asked.

“Just watch,” Katie whispered.

Then a video started to play, and there was a strange woman who was talking about someone named Janet, and Merlin was confused until she announced, “Anthony Stewart Head!” and people cheered, and Merlin knew the video was about Tony. At least, Merlin thought it was Tony, but he wasn’t sure what to make of a man wearing less clothing than the table dancers at the Red Petal wore, especially a man who was strutting up and down a red-carpeted stage and singing to the aforementioned Janet.

Merlin made a tiny noise of distress, because that was Tony, only Tony looked exactly like Uther, and Merlin had foolishly assumed that whenever Tony was acting the part of someone else, it was Uther.

“Are you all right, Merlin?” Arthur asked.

Merlin could only let out another squeak as the video zeroed in on Tony and revealed that he was wearing face paint, more dramatic and dark than even Morgana had ever worn. He was wearing long glittering earrings and black lace all up and down his legs and he must have been a very good actor, because he didn’t look at all embarrassed. In fact, he looked like he was having lots of fun.

Tony glanced in the mirror mounted above him. “What’s going on back there? You girls had better not be outraging poor Merlin –”

“We don’t have our hands on him,” Angel said primly.

The tiny Tony in the video continued to sing and strut while people screamed and cheered and whistled, and then Tony said from the front seat, “Oh, Katie, I told you to leave off the _Rocky Horror._ ”

Arthur twisted around in his seat. “What is it?”

Katie started to hand him her mobile, which Merlin was fine with, because it meant he didn’t have to look at it anymore, but Tony shook his head and said in a terrifyingly Uther-like tone, “Under no circumstance is Arthur to see that video.”

“But Tony –”

“He already has a fraught relationship with his father as it is. Don’t make it worse,” Tony said.

“I’m right here,” Arthur said. “Also, my relationship with my father is fine.”

Tony winced. “Sorry, Arthur.” Then he glared at Katie as she reached between the front seats with her mobile. “I’m serious.”

Katie pouted. “Fine. Merlin, you should see the end.”

He shook his head vehemently. “No! I don’t want to see anymore.”

“Here,” Angel said gently. “This might help. It’s a video of Tony as the Prime Minister.”

“What’s a prime minister?” Merlin asked warily.

“He’s like a king, only instead of inheriting the position from a parent the people choose him. Every few years, everyone gets together and votes and they either keep the one they’ve got or pick a new one, and Tony played the part of one on television for a while, so he was prepared to play a king,” Angel said.

That sounded much easier to handle. “Oh, that sounds all right,” Merlin said.

“Whenever a prime minister wins the vote, he has a party,” Angel said.

Merlin considered this. “Like the banquets to celebrate Arthur winning a tournament?”

“Yes – there’s eating and drinking and dancing and everything,” Angel said.

“I’ve never seen Uther dance,” Merlin said hesitantly.

Angel handed him her mobile, and that was more like the Tony Merlin knew. He looked gentler with specs on, sort of academic like Gaius, and he was chatting with someone very odd named Sebastian. Merlin was very alarmed when the ‘dancing’ began, but when he glanced up at Katie and Angel they were both wearing calm expressions, so this obviously wasn’t something that was going to scare him, and based on the dancing Angel had tried to teach him at the pizza tavern, it wasn’t so scandalous. And maybe, since Katie had suggested that Merlin might want to ‘pull’ with a young man if he wanted, it wasn’t so scandalous for two men to dance like that either. Merlin didn’t entirely understand why the Sebastian character started crying when Prime Minister Tony stopped dancing with him, but he thought it was very sweet of Prime Minister Tony to comfort him. Merlin could carry that image with him forever, to remember in moments when Uther was cruel and foul, hateful and irrational, when Uther said something small and careless that cut Arthur to the quick. When those moments came, Merlin would remember this moment, and –

“By the gods, my eyes! I’ll never be able to look at Uther again!”

Angel and Katie burst out laughing, and Arthur said, “Let me see.”

Tony groaned. “Good heavens. Not _Little Britain_. If you show him anything from _Manchild_ or _Repo_ , I swear I’ll pull this car over and leave you on the side of the road and you can walk back into town.”

Merlin had his hands clapped over his eyes in horror and was trying to shake the image of King Uther kissing another man from his mind, but it was burned into his eyelids and he could still see it, the bodies clasped tightly together, the passionate press of lips.

“We saved the best for last,” Katie said.

“It’s Uther naked, isn’t it?”

“Merlin!” Arthur cried from the front seat, aghast.

“No,” Angel said, “it’s Tony as Giles, and he’s doing magic.”

Merlin opened his eyes. “Really?”

“Really,” Katie said.

“It’s not a trick?” Merlin asked.

“No.” Angel smiled sweetly, but she was an actress, and Merlin wasn’t sure he could trust her.

“We’ll let Arthur see it too, if you like,” Katie said, and Tony made a warning noise.

As nice as Tony was, Merlin was sure he would carry through with his threat, so he trusted Angel and Katie’s intentions if they were willing to share the video with Arthur. The video started, and Tony-as-Giles looked fairly similar to Prime Minister Tony, what with the neat clothes and the specs, but...he was studying a book of what looked clearly like magic, and then he was casting magic, his voice deep and booming and full of power, the same power Merlin heard in Uther’s voice when he cast judgment on the court. Merlin wondered if Uther hadn’t had any hand, any tiny part at all, in the magic used to give life to Arthur. Merlin supposed, if Nimueh had insisted on Uther’s help, he would have looked like Tony in the video, solemn-faced and determined, but a little flustered and afraid.

“That wasn’t so bad, now was it?” Angel asked.

“No,” Merlin said. “Thank you for letting me look at your mobile.” He glanced at Arthur, who was sitting bolt upright in the front seat, like he was trying to do his best to stay alert for hearing cases at court. His gaze was fixed straight ahead, and Merlin could see his shoulders were rigid. Arthur hated being left out of anything, and he was likely sulking in as princely a fashion as possible, but Merlin suspected Arthur’s reaction ran deeper. As Tony had pointed out, Arthur’s relationship with Uther was tense enough already, and having Tony around probably hadn’t helped any. Between Arthur learning that Merlin had magic and Tony being so kind and fatherly, Arthur was probably very confused, and Merlin felt bad for him.

When Tony pulled the car to a stop back at the hotel, Merlin was alarmed to see the several familiar people standing on the pavement, arms crossed, wearing angry expressions. In the shadows he didn’t recognize them at first, but then he realized they were the ladies from that morning who had summoned ‘Colin’ and ‘Bradley’ from bed.

“Good evening,” Tony said as he climbed out of the car. The others followed slowly.

“I might expect this malarkey from Bradley,” one woman said, casting Arthur a dark look, “but Colin as well? Where have you been all afternoon? Jeremy’s been asking after you.”

“We didn’t get any calls on our mobiles,” Angel said.

Katie and Tony had dodged away from the conversation and were unloading the bags of spell components from the back of the car.

“Jeremy’s finally recovered,” the other woman said, “and the electrical issues at the caves will be sorted sometime tomorrow morning. Bradley’s stand-in, however, is still ill. Jeremy wanted us to inform you that shooting will resume first thing tomorrow. He wants to start with the Big Reveal.”

“Of course,” Arthur said.

The first woman eyed him up and down. Her expression was one of clear disapproval. “You’re looking much healthier than you were this morning. Imagine my concern when I returned to your room and you didn’t answer and the concierge informed me that you’d gone swanning into town with the rest.”

“Colin and I were up very late the night before running lines for The Big Reveal,” Arthur said smoothly, “and perhaps a day of relaxation was necessary. I apologize if you were unduly concerned.”

“Tonight you’d better turn in early if you want to be alert for the wake-up call tomorrow,” the woman said, and she spun on her heel, headed into the hotel. The other woman sniffed at Arthur and then followed.

“Bradley’s going to have to watch his back when he returns,” Katie said.

“Will we be able to do the spell tonight?” Merlin asked, concerned.

Tony shook his head. “There’s no way all of us would be able to get past security to the set.”

Arthur stepped forward. “Hang on, you can’t come with us. It would be dangerous, and we can’t risk any of you getting caught in the aftermath of the spell if it goes wrong.”

“That’s very considerate of you, Arthur, but who would help carry everything, and who would distract the others while you go down into the cave? You need us all,” Tony said, and he sounded utterly reasonable.

Merlin glanced at Arthur, whose expression was grim, his jaw tight. After a moment, Arthur nodded, conceding the point.

“All right. So we’ll perform the spell tomorrow, before Jeremy tries to make us ‘shoot’ anything?” he asked.

“That’s about the size of it,” Katie said. She hefted the bags she was carrying, and Arthur moved to take some from her, but she shook her head. “Let’s divvy up everything so we can carry it to the set tomorrow, and then – then we should probably get some sleep.”

Merlin nodded and reached for another bag in the back of the car, but Arthur got to it first. He cast Merlin a look and inclined his head once, sharply, and then Angel closed the back of the car. Up in Tony’s room, they divided the spell components into four parts, each part going into the backpacks that belonged to Angel, Katie, Bradley, and Colin. They made plans to meet tomorrow morning down in the hotel lobby, and then Arthur and Merlin retired to Bradley and Colin’s rooms.

Merlin found some clean clothes and set them on a chair next to Colin’s backpack. Someone had been into the room and tidied while he was out, and Colin’s copy of the script was sitting on the table, neat and square to the corner, crumpled around the edges from where Merlin had shoved it under his pillow. Merlin picked it up and flipped it open to the Big Reveal, studied the notes Bradley and Colin had written in their consideration of being Arthur and Merlin. However playful and easy their life was, they cared about the people whose lives they portrayed, and they knew Arthur and Merlin well.

Merlin sank down on the bed and read the lines slowly, carefully. Whoever these writers were, they had captured Merlin and Arthur’s voices quite well, their little turns of phrases, the way they danced around important things until they were properly alone.

“What are you reading?”

Merlin glanced up.

Arthur was leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, clad in nothing but Bradley’s undershorts and a thin, sleeveless tunic.

“The Big Reveal,” Merlin said. “How the people in this world think I would have confessed to you.”

Arthur’s blue eyes were dark, his expression solemn. “Do I try to have you killed?”

Merlin shook his head. “You already knew.”

“How?”

Merlin held out the script. “Come see for yourself.”

Arthur straightened up, and for a moment Merlin saw royal hauteur in every line of his body, in the firm set of his jaw and the straight line of his shoulders, and even in sleeping clothes he looked every inch a king. Then he took a step forward, and another, and hesitation crossed his face, and he was just a nervous young man. Arthur sat down beside Merlin on the bed, and Merlin set the script down so it was spread across both their knees.

“Well, maybe we should finally run those lines,” Arthur said, and he bumped Merlin’s shoulder with his.

“Yeah, we should, in case Jeremy wants to hear them tomorrow before we go home,” Merlin said.

Arthur glanced at him, and he said, “When we get home, I’ll protect you. I’ll never let you burn.”

Warmth unfurled in Merlin’s chest, and he smiled up at his once and future king, and he said, “I know. Now, let’s try this.”

Arthur cleared his throat and began, in a the stilted voice he used to make court pronouncements, “ _I’m going after Percival and Gwaine._ ”

Merlin resisted the urge to roll his eyes, because he was pretty sure Arthur was supposed to sound as he normally did in the aftermath of battle-type excitement, but he read his line anyway. “ _Arthur, wait..._ ”


	12. Chapter 12

“Does it make any sense?” Colin asked. He had his knees tugged up to his chest and was shivering even though they were both close to the fire.

Bradley flicked a glance at the flames, and they danced higher. The rush of magic through his veins whenever he cast in this world was like music in his blood, like when a song was being played so loud he could feel the thrum of every note in his bones. Colin hated clubbing, the colored lights and artificial personalities and the canned music, but Bradley loved the sensation of music filling his entire body, because it felt like magic, the strongest, sweetest magic he could ever cast, and back home it was something he’d managed on his own only once.

“According to this manuscript, spells to allow time travel were once popular, if difficult,” Bradley said. “Apparently that’s how some prophecies were set in the past – great sorcerers would go back in time and warn others of their coming to help pave the way.” He studied Gaius’s neat script, intrigued. “Maybe that’s how the legends of Emrys were made – Merlin went back in time and told Taliesin about himself or something, and that’s why some legends talk about Merlin living backward through time.”

“Perhaps,” Colin agreed. “So...do you think this will work?”

Bradley studied the list of ritual components for the spell and hummed softly under his breath. He glanced over at Colin, who was gazing into the flames and shivering faintly. Bradley sighed and reached out, plucked his blanket off his bedroll, and flung it over Colin’s shoulders.

“It seems to follow basic hermetic principles, which I’m not so great at. Mostly it’s sympathetic magic, which I’ve seen done, and here I might have the power to make it work,” Bradley said. “Question is, how are we going to find the things I need?”

“Most of what we need is plants, and the rest we can likely fake,” Colin said. “We’re in the middle of a forest. Plants will be easy to come by.”

“I’m not letting you wander the forest unarmed,” Bradley said.

Colin rolled his eyes. “I’m not actually Merlin – I’m decent with a sword, and I wouldn’t have to go far.”

“We could wake Gwaine and have him take watch while we look together.” Bradley glanced over his shoulder to where the knights were sprawled in a semi-circle, forming a line of defense even in their sleep. Though they looked like bundles of blankets and shadows in the firelight, Bradley could see the gleam of swords at their sides, and he knew that should attackers fall on the camp, they would be awake and fighting in a heartbeat.

“Are you going to tell him that you’re getting ready to cast a spell?” Colin asked.

“No. We’ll tell him that Merlin has to perform important magic while we’re away from Camelot, and he needs my help to find spell ingredients or something.” Bradley shrugged. Blaming Merlin for all of his magic was convenient, and he was starting to feel a bit bad about it.

“Based on what I know of the show, I think Gwaine has more practical experience with magic than Arthur does and he’d likely be more help to Merlin than Arthur would,” Colin said.

Bradley glanced at him. “Why are you resisting me on this?”

Colin didn’t look at him, continued gazing into the flames, and their flickering cast shadows dancing across the planes of his face, outlined the starkness of his cheekbones and jaw, the curve of his mouth. Then he shook his head. “I’m sorry. I...Bradley, I feel useless. This entire time, you’ve been doing everything – leading the troops, saving me from Uther, casting the magic to keep us safe. I wish that I could do something to help us get home.”

Bradley felt his throat close. “I didn’t realize you felt like that. I didn’t mean to order you around or whatever.”

Colin sighed; Bradley knew that sound, and it meant Colin was frustrated. “You haven’t been ordering me around. I just –”

“I feel like this is my fault, somehow,” Bradley said. “Magic brought us here, and it’s not like you made that happen, so it must have been me.”

Colin turned to him sharply. “This isn’t your fault. As you said, you’re not powerful enough to make this sort of thing happen, not when we’re back home. It’s not all your responsibility. And we’re friends. We’re in this together.”

“Of course we are –”

Colin stood up, shook off Bradley’s blanket. “Then let me do my part. I know what to look for.”

Bradley gazed up at him. Colin was taller than him, not by much, but enough that Bradley was constantly aware of it. In the shadows and the moonlight, he looked like the slender incubus rumored to have been Merlin’s father in legend, delicate and determined, focused and wild all at once.

“All right,” Bradley said finally. “Take a sword with you. And yell if anything comes near you, understand?”

Colin nodded, scooped up his borrowed sword. “I’ll be fine.” He turned and headed into the trees.

Bradley reached out and pulled his sword closer to him, then hunkered down and studied Gaius’s handwritten page. This spell would be bigger than anything he’d ever attempted in the past, and he was afraid it wouldn’t work. He forced himself to close his eyes and take a deep breath and start memorizing the incantation. He’d need to know it word for word without breaking concentration as he cast.

He wanted, more than anything, to get home.

Something stirred behind him, and he opened his eyes, reached for his sword. Lancelot sat up and looked at him.

“Where’s Merlin?”

“In the trees,” Bradley said, implying a lie even though he’d told the truth.

Lancelot nodded, but he didn’t lay back down. Instead, he climbed over Percival and Elyan and came to sit beside Bradley at the fire.

“I know I’m not Merlin, but lately I’ve sensed that something is not quite right with you. Do you want to talk about it?” he asked quietly.

Bradley glanced over his shoulder at the other knights; they were all sound asleep. None of them had even stirred when Lancelot moved, which said impressive and worrying things about his stealth skills.

“It’s just been an odd few days is all.” That was, perhaps, an understatement worth several centuries, but Bradley was in no mood to attempt to explain the details.

Lancelot nodded without looking at Bradley. He was gazing into the flames, just like Colin had, and Bradley wondered what was so fascinating about fire. When he’d first learned that he could conjure fire, he’d been fascinated by it too, but very quickly he learned that getting hypnotized by the beauty of the flames was dangerous. His cabal leader warned him early on – when he was working with fire on something even as small as a birthday candle, he had to have absolute control lest he lose his grip on the Tapestry and find his magic turned back upon him in a whiplash of paradox. Better mages than Bradley had been burned alive in their own spellfire.

Lancelot said suddenly, “Are you in love with Gwen?”

It took a massive dose of willpower for Bradley not to flinch at her name. He was an actor; he could fake up a decent answer to that question, couldn’t he? Only his scenes with Angel were usually playful and sweet, wrought with the tension of class differences and little else. Lancelot’s question had been laced with yearning and heartache deeper than anything the directors ever asked for, and Bradley needed time to think.

“I know you are,” he said.

Lancelot blinked rapidly, startled.

“I know the signs,” Bradley said, keeping his voice even and measured the way Arthur did when he addressed anyone who wasn’t Merlin or Gwen. “You know those few moments when you're in the tourney ring, standing opposite another knight, swords at the ready? The way your pulse leaps and your heart pounds in your ears and you know, for one moment, that you could conquer the world?"

Lancelot. "Yes." He smiled faintly. "It feels like that whenever I'm near her, when she smiles, when she walks into a room – and I want to conquer the world for her, make her queen of it all." Lancelot glanced up at Bradley.

"Gwen is a fine woman," Bradley said. "And she would make a great queen."

Something shadowed in Lancelot's eyes. "Yes. But I could never be her king."

“It’s not a king she’s after, just a good man,” Bradley said.

“You’re a good man, Sire,” Lancelot said.

“We’re both good men,” Bradley said, “good enough to understand that, whatever choice she makes, the choice is hers and hers alone.” He knew he hadn’t answered Lancelot’s question, but he had been as honest as he could without betraying himself or Arthur, because he knew Arthur loved Gwen more than he loved Camelot, and he would give his life, would take lives for Camelot.

Bradley, too, had taken lives for Camelot. He wondered, once he and Colin made it home, how he would ever be able to play the humorous scenes between Merlin and Arthur as pure comedy when he now understood those moments for what they really were – Arthur trying to patch over the scars on his soul that bled for every life he had ever taken.

“She told me that you were willing to give up your right to the throne for her,” Lancelot said.

“What she says is true.” Bradley very carefully didn’t look at Lancelot, didn’t want to betray himself with the doubt shining in his eyes.

“You risked your own father killing you to save Merlin,” Lancelot said.

At that, Bradley turned to look at him. “What about it?”

“Sire, are you – do you –” Lancelot stumbled over the words, couldn’t force them past his lips. In the firelight, his expression was pale, drawn.

“I’m not in love with Merlin, if that’s what you’re asking,” Bradley said flatly.

Lancelot swallowed hard. “I meant no offense –”

“But he’s like a brother to me, and I care about him, and he is as vital to the future of Camelot as you or I or any of my knights,” Bradley said. “Like any member of my family, I would lay down my life to protect him.”

“When you asked me to protect Gwen –”

“I know she could be happy with you if I was...gone,” Bradley said slowly, picking his words cautiously. Then, for Arthur’s sake, he added, “Whether I could be happy if she was gone is another matter entirely.” Knowing what would happen to Arthur and Gwen in the end was making this conversation terribly difficult, because it would be easy to tell Lancelot to take Gwen and run now, save Arthur the heartbreak and near-destruction of his kingdom that would come later. Bradley suspected, however, that he had no such power over history, and he wasn’t going to change it.

Lancelot nodded. “I’ll watch over her.”

“Just...not a little too closely,” Bradley said, hoping to lighten the mood, but apparently voyeuristic stalking wasn’t something one could joke about in this world, because Lancelot’s eyes went wide and he shook his head vehemently.

“I would never, Sire –”

Bradley sighed. “I was joking.”

“Oh.” Lancelot deflated, and he looked confused.

“I realize that I was never hugged as a child and I have to spend every waking moment of every day being the prince of Camelot, but I do have a sense of humor,” Bradley said, and he smiled wryly to emphasize his point.

“Of course, Sire,” Lancelot said, and then, to Bradley’s surprise, he reached out and slung an arm around Bradley’s shoulders and squeezed. A half-hug. Before Bradley could form a verbal response, Lancelot stood up and said, “Good night,” and then he hurried back to his bedroll.

Bradley supposed that, in the legends, there was a reason Lancelot was considered Arthur’s best friend. He wondered what poor Arthur and Merlin were going to do in the aftermath of all Bradley and Colin had done in their world, what with outing Bradley to Uther and outing Merlin to the knights and other complicated things, like Arthur’s sudden penchant for poetry.

A twig snapped somewhere behind him, and Bradley was on his feet, sword drawn, but it was Colin coming around the edge of the camp, laden down with spell components.

“I had to wait in the trees until Lancelot was done hugging you,” Colin said. “What did you say to him?”

“I was trying to joke with him and mentioned that Arthur had never been hugged as a child, so I guess he took pity on Arthur,” Bradley said. He was still bewildered by the moment of affection from the knight who’d spent most of his time casting him strange looks and glaring. “I did finally clarify, once and for all, that Arthur is not in love with Merlin.”

“That won’t stop the fangirls,” Colin pointed out, and eased down next to Bradley.

“I didn’t mean for it to. I meant for it to stop the courtiers from thinking weird things about Arthur and Merlin,” Bradley said. “What have you found?”

“Let’s go down into the cave and I’ll show you,” Colin said.

“We can’t leave them here alone,” Bradley said.

Colin thought for a moment, then said, “Wake Percival and have him watch. He won’t ask questions.”

Bradley suspected Percival’s reticence had more to do with thoughtfulness than gormlessness, but he knew Colin was right. Colin started toward the mouth of the cave, and Bradley prowled over to the sleeping figures. Percival was easy to suss out because he was the tallest. Bradley knelt beside him and spoke softly, careful not to touch him.

“Percival, watch time.”

Percival blinked and reached for his sword, then said, “Yes, Arthur.” He made no comment when he saw that Colin’s bedroll was empty and Bradley made no move toward his; he just placed himself on the ground with his back to the fire and began scanning the shadows, alert.

Bradley scooped up a torch and followed Colin into the mouth of the cave. Once they were out of sight from the outside world, Bradley lit the torch with his magic, and together they traveled down, down. The walls of the caves were jagged and dark, grey-brown in the torchlight, and damp where water dripped from the ceiling. Puddles gleamed menacingly in the shadows, and once or twice Bradley thought a stalactite was a fang from a looming magical creature, but he and Colin were well and truly alone.

Without the handrail along the wall and the hordes of film equipment, it was hard to tell when they were in the right place, but when the tunnel opened out into a wide cavern, Bradley paused and looked at the Tapestry, and there it was, a gaping wound in the fabric of time and reality.

“This is us,” Bradley said, and Colin halted beside him.

“How can you tell?” Colin asked.

“I can see it,” Bradley said. “In the Tapestry. Can you feel it? At all?”

“No,” Colin said. “It just feels like a cold damp cave to me. I don’t have an ounce of magic in my veins. Shall we do this?”

“Yes,” Bradley said. “What have you got?”

“Seven blossoms to mark a circle,” Colin said. He’d found white, trumpet-like flowers like the kind Grettir had turned Gwaine’s sword into on the bridge into the Perilous Lands.

Bradley accepted them carefully and did his best to arrange the blossoms, complete with long stalks – Colin was so thoughtful – in a wide circle on the ground.

“A blossom to represent the earth,” Colin said, and Bradley had to check the Tapestry to ascertain which way was north before he laid the lavender blossom down.

“This leaf ought to serve as a bowl if you can conjure a little water,” Colin said.

Bradley cupped the leaf – broad, curved – carefully in his hands and set it at the western point, and then, with a tiny nudge of power, created a clear pool of water in the base of the leaf bowl. “I think that’ll work just fine.”

Colin handed him the small candle they’d originally used to get out of the cave. “For fire.”

Bringing a candle to life was a familiar, easy spell. Bradley dripped a bit of wax onto the ground before propping up the candle at the southernmost point.

“A feather for air,” Colin said, and handed over something black and mangled that had likely belonged to some sort of corvida. Bradley set it at the eastern point.

“Gaia berries for smell, a piece of bread for taste, and a scrap of bandage for touch,” Colin said.

“Those go in the middle.” Bradley stepped into the middle of the circle, and he beckoned Colin toward him.

“What about sound and sight?”

“I’ll have to handle those on my own.”

Colin stepped over the threshold of flowers and handed Bradley the last of the spell components. “What now? Do I click my heels and say ‘there’s no place like home’?”

“Not quite,” Bradley said. “I do need you to close your eyes and think about home, though. Think very, very hard.”

“Okay,” Colin said.

Even if he didn’t have magic, he had willpower, and him concentrating fiercely on home would make Bradley’s task a little easier. Bradley closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and did something his cabal leader had warned him never to do. He took off his focus, slid off Arthur’s ring and knelt, placed it on the ground. Then he sank into himself, deep, deep, deeper until he was beyond all sensation outside, surrounded by the sound of his own heartbeat, the taste and smell of his own blood, and the swirling colors of the Tapestry. Then, with every ounce of willpower he possessed, he reached outside himself and began to pluck the strings, weave, rearrange the colors until they formed a doorway around the gaping black rift. He rearranged the strands of time so when he stepped through he would hear the familiar whir and hum of machines, so he would feel the smooth solidity of plastic and metal rigging, smell dampness instead of the overpowering smoke from fire-lit torches. He could feel it working, feel reality bending to his will, and he could feel Colin’s will – memories, desires, emotions – merging with his.

Distantly, he was aware of his body experiencing a sudden flash of external heat, and there was an explosion of light that sent Bradley hurtling forcefully back up to surface awareness, and when he opened his eyes, he was in total darkness.

He was filled a triumphant sense of déja vu, because this was just like the moment after the overhead lights had blown in the middle of filming, which meant he and Colin had to be home.

And then he heard his own voice say, “Did it work?” at the same time as he heard Colin say the same three words.

* * *

Merlin came awake sharply to a series of rapid knocks on his bedroom door. His neck made a horrible cracking noise when he lifted his head, and he realized he’d fallen asleep slumped against Arthur on Colin’s bed, Colin’s script squashed between them. Arthur came awake a moment later and fumbled out toward where he usually kept his sword.

Angel said, “Hurry up! Get clean and get dressed – we have to get to the caves before Jeremy does.”

A quick glance out the window told Merlin that the sun had not yet risen. He stumbled to his feet and turned on the overhead light, tugged open the door.

“What do you need?”

“Grab your backpack and Arthur’s too,” Angel said, and then she wrinkled her nose, stepped back. “When was the last time you showered or brushed your teeth?”

“Showered?” Merlin was confused. And why would he brush is teeth? People brushed their hair.

“Took a bath,” Angel said. “Here we call it taking a shower. It’s like a bath, only water pours down from above.”

Merlin must have looked clueless, because Angel pushed past him – Merlin noticed that her dark curls were damp and gleaming and she smelled faintly of lavender – and into the room.

She crossed the room and yanked open a door to what Merlin had thought was some sort of closet, a cool room for storing food because it was lined with tiles, and she said, “This is the bathroom. Watch this.”

She reached out over the massive white tub and turned the shining silver knob on the wall, and water exploded from the ceiling like a localized raincloud. “You take off your clothes, stand under the water – it’s warm – and scrub with some soap, and then dry off with a towel and then put clean clothes on. It’s a shower. Make it fast.”

“All right,” Merlin said.

“Turn the knob the other way when you’re done and the water will stop falling. You have fifteen minutes.” Angel hurried out of the room, and she took Colin and Bradley’s backpacks with her.

Arthur came up behind Merlin. “Is that how people bathe here?”

“Apparently,” Merlin said.

“I’m going first, because I get the water while it’s still warm,” Arthur said and stripped off his tunic. He surveyed the bathroom. “There’s a room like this off of Bradley’s bedroom.”

“Then I’m going to use it,” Merlin said. He’d seen Angel make the water fall – he could do the same, assuming the bathroom off of Bradley’s room worked the same as the one off of Colin’s room. Merlin must have done something wrong, because the water for his shower was freezing when it hit him at first, so he cast a warming spell and scrubbed quickly. He found a towel, thicker and warmer and fluffier than Arthur had ever owned, and he dried off, but then he had no clean clothes. Clutching the towel close, Merlin tip-toed across Bradley’s room and back to Colin’s to hunt for clean clothes – and collided with Arthur’s bare chest.

“What are you doing?” Arthur asked.

Merlin stepped back and rubbed his sternum where it was smarting from the collision. “Looking for clean clothes.”

Arthur was already half dressed. “Hurry it up. If we want to get home, we have to get back to the cave before Jeremy asks us to shoot anything.”

“I’d be quicker if you weren’t getting in my way,” Merlin huffed, and he stepped around Arthur and into Colin’s room.

Arthur ruffled his hair as he went by. “Aren’t you excited? We’re going home.”

Merlin found clean undershorts, trousers, and a tunic. “I’m terribly excited to go home to a land where I ought to be killed for who I am,” he muttered to himself. “I realize I have a destiny and Albion needs us, but am I excited? Not really.”

“You could stay here,” Arthur said. His voice caught on the last word.

Merlin spun around, half into his tunic, and froze. He hadn’t thought Arthur heard him. “What?”

Arthur stood in the doorway, clutching his sword. “You like it here, don’t you? Angel and Katie are nice to you, and you don’t have to be afraid of who you are, and it’s all right for you to have magic.”

“Arthur, no.” Horror curled in Merlin’s chest. He complained about his situation often, but Arthur was his friend, the best friend he’d had since Will, and he couldn’t just desert Arthur or anyone else in his life. “I can’t stay here. First of all, the world here probably couldn’t deal with two of me and Colin, and...my place is with you. By your side. Someone has to keep you safe – and occasionally remind you when you’re being a dollop head.”

“You’re not safe in Camelot,” Arthur said.

“Experience would prove that neither are you,” Merlin said.

Arthur tried to smile, but the expression faltered. “Have I ever said thank you?”

“For what?”

“For saving my life.”

Merlin searched his memory. “Er...”

“Thank you,” Arthur said. “For saving my life.”

“You’ve saved mine,” Merlin said.

“Not nearly as often as you’ve saved mine.” Arthur was looking at Merlin the way he had that day in the market, after the unfortunate brawl with the maces. “I was right, you know. There is something about you, and back then I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I know what it is now.”

“What is it?”

“Courage, honor, loyalty, power.” Arthur smiled, ever so faintly. “Merlin, you’re a hero.”

Merlin felt a blush creep across his cheeks. “Me? What? No. Have you seen me? I’m terrible with a sword –”

“You are a hero,” Arthur said quietly. “Every so often, I’ll have to remind you. Now come on – it’s time for some of your magical heroics. Take us home.”

Merlin couldn’t help but grin, and then together they headed for lobby. They hadn’t set out a moment too soon, because they met Katie on the stairs as she was coming to look for them.

“We’ve got to get a move on if we want to get down into that cave,” she said.

Angel and Tony were already there, and as a group they headed out to the street where a familiar old man was waiting beside a white van.

“Good morning,” he said cheerfully. “You lot are awake early. Getting started on a big scene?”

“A very big one,” Angel said. “Well, it’s Bradley and Colin’s big scene. We just want to watch.”

The old man grinned. “You’re not the only one.” He pulled open one of the doors, and Merlin’s heart leaped. Gaius was sitting in the van. Only he was wearing specs and he had no hair. Merlin started forward, but Tony put a hand on his arm.

“Good morning, Richard,” Tony said. “I didn’t think we would see you until we were back in Cardiff.”

“I heard from Jeremy that you’re filming the Big Reveal today, so I thought I’d come watch. I don’t want to have to wait until it airs,” Richard said, and he sounded exactly like Gaius.

“I’m sure it will be brilliant,” Tony said.

Cautiously, Arthur said, “You’re here early. Shooting doesn’t start for another few hours.”

“Oh! Well, I thought it started sooner. If catering’s there, we can have breakfast together.” Richard smiled.

As if on cue, Merlin’s stomach rumbled.

“Sounds like someone needs breakfast,” Richard said.

“Indeed,” Angel said. “So we ought to hurry.”

Before Merlin could say anything, Katie hustled them all into the van, and the old man climbed into the front seat to drive, and then they were on the road. Merlin looked back at the town as it receded, at the warm glow of light spilling from glass windowpanes, at the clean, straight lines of the houses and the criss-crossing of wires between the rooftops, the brightly-colored awnings outside the sleeping shops and the splash of vivid green from the village commons. It was a town full of the wonder of the cinema, of children who weren’t afraid of magic, and Merlin would never find a place like it again.

Angel leaned over to Merlin and said in a low voice, “There’s a song Bradley and Colin love. They sing it all the time, and they can be rather silly about it, but it has powerful words. You might do well to remember them.”

“What are they?” Merlin asked.

Katie said, from the other side of Arthur, “We’re not going to live in silence; we’re not going to live in fear.”

Merlin considered that for a long moment. He’d lived in silence for most of his life – silence about who he was, what he could do, and despite his foolhardiness and the silliness in which he sometimes found himself caught, every day was tinged with the faintest bit of fear.

“Those are strong words,” Arthur said.

“Would you like to hear the song?” Angel asked.

Merlin nodded. He wondered if the van had a jukebox of its own, but then Angel was fishing a slim white device out of Bradley’s backpack. She showed them how the ends of the white cords fit into their ear – one for Merlin, one for Arthur – and then she ran her fingers over the front of the white device, making little clicking sounds that were loud in Merlin’s ears.

And then the music began. Angel handed back the device, and when Merlin looked down he saw that there was a tiny video playing in the square on the top half of the device. At first he thought he was looking at a reflection of himself and Arthur, with white cords trailing from their ears, but then he realized he was seeing Bradley and Colin singing along to the song, jubilant and silly and laughing.

To see a man who looked exactly like Arthur carefree and laughing was amazing, and Merlin was glad he knew what that looked like, because he’d seen the shadows in Arthur’s eyes, the shadows of lives taken for king and country. Merlin heard the words Katie had told him, and he promised himself he would remember them, that he would help Arthur shape Albion into a land where no man had to live in silence or fear.

“It’s a good song,” Arthur said quietly.

Richard glanced over from where he was chatting with Tony. “Are you two going to start singing again?”

“Not today,” Arthur said, and when the song ended he handed the device back to Angel so she could put it away.

“You have to be ready for your big scene,” Richard said wisely.

“Yes,” Merlin agreed. “Today is a very important day.”

When they arrived at the clearing beside the caves, it was already crowded with equipment and buzzing with people. The old man let them out of the van, bade them farewell, and then the van trundled away. Some of the people called out greetings to Richard, who waved back.

Arthur stepped up beside Katie and said in a low voice, “I thought you said we had to be early.”

“The crew is always here long before we are,” she said, voice equally quiet, “but that doesn’t mean shooting will commence. Come on – I don’t see Jeremy. We can all just pop down to the cave and get that ritual started and –”

“Bradley, Colin, I see you received my message,” Jeremy said. Something about his tone was ominous.

Merlin and Arthur turned around as one and saw Jeremy standing behind them, arms crossed over his chest, expression dangerously blank.

“Good morning,” Arthur said cautiously.

Jeremy leveled a look at Merlin. “I hope you’ve been doing your vocal warm-ups and are ready to sound like Merlin.”

“I think I sound like Merlin,” he said carefully.

Jeremy nodded briefly. “Very good. Now, into your costumes, both of you.”

Charlotte appeared, and she led them away from the others toward two low, white structures that were mounted on wheels. Bradley’s name was on the door of one, Colin’s on the other. Merlin cast a pleading look over his shoulder and was met with helpless shrugs from Katie, Angel, and Tony.

“Make-up will be here when you’re done,” Charlotte said, and she beamed.

Merlin glanced at Arthur, who nodded, and they headed into their respective buildings. Inside Merlin found a scattered collection of furniture – a sofa, a comfortable-looking chair, a low table stacked with books. Laid out across another table were the clothes he’d been wearing when he arrived, everything from his scarf and his belt to his socks and boots. Merlin squirmed gratefully out of Colin’s clothes and into his own clothes, and then he poked his head out of the little house-on-wheels.

Arthur hollered Colin’s name. Merlin scurried over to the other house-on-wheels. Inside, it was as messy as Bradley’s room back at the inn, but it had the same furnishings as inside Colin’s house. He saw Arthur attempting to buckle himself into his own armor.

Someone knocked at the door, and Arthur called out, “Enter!” while Merlin was buckling on his pauldron.

Charlotte pulled open the door. “Your armor is made of much heavier stuff this season. I’d heard wardrobe had a bigger budget this this year and didn’t believe it. Now I know where all of it went.” She laughed when she saw Merlin fastening Arthur’s gauntlets and said, “Wow, you two are in character already. I knew today was a big scene, but you’re putting a lot into it. I’m excited to see how it turns out.”

“It’s an important moment,” Arthur said.

He and Merlin had run lines for the scene over and over again, poking and prodding at each other, wondering why the writers for the show chose particular words, positing possibilities. Merlin had asked Arthur what he would have done if he had found out about Merlin’s magic before Merlin told him, and Arthur had confessed, honestly, that he wasn’t sure, since it would depend on what sort of magic he witnessed.

“Make-up time now,” Charlotte said.

Merlin had the distinct notion that she didn’t mean they had to apologize to people with whom Colin and Bradley had had arguments in the past, and he and Arthur could only trail Charlotte across the clearing, dodging crew members and their inscrutable equipment. Tony and the others were huddled near Jeremy on the sidelines. Angel flashed them another apologetic smile, and then someone tugged Arthur away from Merlin’s side. Merlin could only yelp, surprised, when two women descended on him, one with a comb, another with a brush and a pot of what looked suspiciously like Morgana’s beauty powder. One woman began combing his hair, and the other ordered him to close his eyes. Merlin glanced over and saw two women had also descended on Arthur and were attacking him with similar girly implements. Arthur was standing very stiffly but obeying, so Merlin decided to do the same and closed his eyes.

No one had combed his hair since he was very small and it had been his mother clicking her tongue disapprovingly whenever she came across a burr or sticker or twigs and leaves from his adventures with Will. Merlin remembered sitting at her knees, eyes closed, enjoying the gentle press of her fingers against his scalp. Whoever was combing his hair now was very gentle and also deliberate – she kept pausing and using her fingers to brush his hair this way and that, very concerned with making it lay just so. The powder brush over his face tickled ever so slightly, but it wasn’t unpleasant.

“I need you to pout,” the woman in front of him said.

“But I –”

“Purse your lips, like you’re going to give me a kiss,” the woman said.

Merlin opened his eyes, alarmed at the notion of some strange woman kissing him.

She arched an eyebrow. “Hurry it up. We haven’t got all day.”

Besides kissing one girl in the village when he was fifteen, Merlin had only ever kissed Freya. He didn’t count the time Gwen had kissed him after he almost died of poison, mostly because he was sure that mentioning it in front of Arthur would lead to a long and painful death.

He wasn’t sure how this was going to work, but he pursed his lips as best as he could – and wrenched himself backward when the woman attempted to smear something sticky and shiny across his lips.

“Colin, what’s the matter with you? You’re like a skittish colt. It’s just a bit of lip gloss,” she said.

Merlin shot Tony a desperate look, but Tony shook his head and made a gesture for Merlin to continue. Merlin sighed miserably and held himself very still as the woman smeared the sticky goo across his lips, and he obeyed when she ordered him to press his lips on a piece of parchment to ‘blot’, and then both women stood back, surveyed him, and declared him ready for shooting.

Shooting. Merlin glanced at Arthur, who looked disgruntled at having been manhandled in such an undignified manner, and saw that Arthur was neater than he had ever been in his entire life. His golden hair gleamed, and his skin glowed with life and energy, and he looked exactly like the legendary hero girls in small villages imagined him to be.

Tony beckoned, and Merlin and Arthur hurried over to him.

“I suppose we should have warned you about make-up,” Tony said.

Arthur glanced at Merlin. “If you ever tell anyone that someone painted me up like Morgana –”

“I won’t,” Merlin said. “Besides, you could tell them the same of me.”

“That’s not important right now,” Tony said. “Once the cameras are all set up, shooting will begin. It’s a long, repetitive process, and it can be quite intense. Jeremy will show you where he wants you to stand, where to move during the scene, if you should turn away from each other – everything like that. Once you understand, you’ll take your starting positions. When Jeremy says ‘action’, you start speaking your lines – the ones from the Big Reveal.”

An expression akin to horror crossed Katie’s face. “Do you even know your lines?”

“Yes,” Arthur said.

Angel looked startled. “Oh.”

Arthur said, “I wondered what it would have been like, if I’d figured it out for myself.”

“So when Jeremy says ‘action’, you speak your lines, and when he says ‘cut’, you stop,” Tony said. “He might have some comments for you, about things to change, but your lines stay the same. You’ll have to repeat sections over and over again until Jeremy decides you’ve done it right, or so they can film from different angles, so try to keep things the same – like the tone and pace of your lines, your facial expressions. Understand? And just...be yourselves.” He looked a bit distressed and said, “I’ve never had to tell an actor that for a performance before. It’s usually all about being someone else.”

Richard chose that moment to wander over bearing a plate of pastries. “Breakfast, anyone?”

Merlin felt his stomach growl again. “Please.”

He was about to reach for one, and then Jeremy said, “Bradley, Colin, let’s do blocking now.”

“What’s blocking?” Arthur asked Tony.

“Just go and follow his instructions,” Tony said.

Richard cast Merlin and Arthur both strange looks, and then they were both heading toward the middle of the clearing. The complicated equipment had formed a circle around a clear spot, and Jeremy was standing in the middle of it.

Merlin went to stand beside him. He glanced around at the crew. Most of them were busy with their equipment, but there was one man standing off to the side, opposite Tony and the others. He was looking, rather fixedly, at Arthur.

Arthur must have sensed it, because he glanced up and caught the man’s gaze. The man’s face brightened a bit, and he lifted a hand to wave.

“Do you know who that is?” Arthur whispered to Merlin.

“No, but obviously he knows Bradley,” Merlin said. “Wave back.”

Arthur did so, the brief wave he offered to his knights in passing from across the field, perfunctory and polite but impersonal, and Merlin saw the man’s expression dim a little.

Jeremy rifled through his copy of the script. “D’you mind if he watches?”

“Who?” Arthur asked.

Jeremy nodded toward the man who had waved.

“No,” Arthur said.

“All right. It’s just that you’ve had him on your list forever, and he’s never come before, and this is an important scene,” Jeremy said. “I wasn’t sure if he would bother you.”

“I’ll be fine,” Arthur said.

Merlin peered at the man, curious, but then Jeremy was speaking, laying out the plan. At certain moments, for certain lines, they were supposed to turn this way and that, step closer or step apart. Some moments would be ‘close-ups’, others would pan back. Merlin nodded as if he understood it all and hoped he didn’t screw this up, that he and Arthur could perform to Jeremy’s expectations and then get down into the cave, find a way home.

“Does that sound good?” Jeremy asked.

Merlin nodded.

“All right. We’ll give it a go and see how it works, start with the camera on the track and then do the close-ups after.” Jeremy retreated to the edge of the clearing beside a massive black piece of equipment.

A woman carrying with two pieces of wood stepped between the piece of equipment and Arthur and Merlin. She recited a string of numbers, clapped the pieces of wood together, and Jeremy said,

“Action.”

* * *

The shield had been achieved, and all they had to do now was take it back to Camelot and wait for Morgana and Morgause to arrive. The rest of the knights were hiding further in the trees, keeping watch and ready to ride at a moment’s notice in case Merlin and Arthur accidentally unleashed something magical that would attack.

“I’m going after Percival and Gwaine,” Arthur said, and he turned away from Merlin, started toward the trees. The knights were within shouting distance, but nothing more. Whatever Merlin might want to say to Arthur now they would never hear. For the first time since that morning when Gaius insisted Merlin confess to his future king, they were alone. Now was his chance.

“Arthur, wait.”

Arthur paused, glanced over his shoulder. “Yes?” His expression was calm. There was no way he could have suspected what was going on in Merlin’s mind.

“There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

“We can talk about it while we walk,” Arthur said. “We need to get this shield back to Camelot as soon as possible and find some way to defend against Morgause’s magic.”

“It’s not something I can talk about in front of the others.” That was only half true – Lancelot knew of Merlin’s magic.

Arthur turned back toward Merlin, took a step closer. “What is it? Are you going to make one of your wise pronouncements again?” Arthur almost looked amused at the prospect.

Merlin shook his head, took a deep breath. He was terrified. He was going to tell Arthur the truth. “No. It’s different. I need you to understand. I didn’t tell you at first because I was afraid. I mean, you’re Arthur Pendragon, you’re Uther’s son, and I saw how you reacted to Will.”

Arthur’s brow furrowed. “You’re not making any sense.”

Merlin hunched his shoulders a little defensively, ducked his head to avoid Arthur’s gaze.

Arthur took a step closer.

Merlin lifted his head. “After that, I wasn’t afraid – not of you. And I trusted you, I did, but I didn’t want to have to make you choose between me and your father, between me and Camelot.”

Arthur’s eyes narrowed. “What are you saying?”

“Maybe,” Merlin said softly, “I was a little afraid, not necessarily of you, but of what you would choose. And whatever choice you made, if it wasn’t me, I couldn’t blame you, because you’re a good man, and a noble prince, and you love your king, and you love Camelot –”

“Merlin, you’re rambling.” Arthur’s voice was sharp, impatient. He turned away, started toward the trees again.

Merlin took a deep breath, and then he did it, he said it, the three words he never thought he’d say to Arthur. “I have magic.”

Arthur went still.

Merlin saw his shoulders tighten, waited for the moment he reached for his sword and spun around, slashed, moving too fast for Merlin to see, moving fast enough for Merlin to feel the end of his own life.

But then Arthur said, “I know.”

Those two words slammed Merlin in the chest, made it hard for him to breathe. “What?”

Arthur didn’t turn around. “I know you have magic, Merlin.”

“How long?”

“Since the Great Dragon,” Arthur said. He turned around. “Since I saw you crying over a stranger as if he were your own father. Since I woke up in a burnt meadow and saw that the dragon I’d been fighting was not dead but gone and I knew a Dragonlord could order a dragon to leave Camelot and never harm it again. Since I remembered a Dragonlord could pass his powers on to his son.”

Merlin’s heart lodged in his throat. He opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t. Arthur crossed the clearing to him.

“Merlin, I know you’ve never used your magic to harm me or Camelot.” Arthur placed a hand on Merlin’s shoulder, squeezed reassuringly. “I know that, of any sorcerer I have faced, you are one with a pure heart. You are foolish at times, and clumsy, but you have never meant me ill, and I know you have used your magic many times to save me.”

“Oh,” Merlin said faintly. “But how –”

Arthur carried on, his tone almost ruthlessly gentle. “I know I cannot blame you for the gifts with which you were born, but I can thank you for the ways in which you have chosen to use them. I know magic is not evil or unnatural – at least, not in you.”

“Why did you never tell me?” Merlin finally managed to say.

Arthur met his gaze evenly. “I wanted to wait until you were ready to tell me yourself. It was your secret to keep, and I understand why you kept it. I can’t say I wasn’t hurt by your deception – by how good at it you are – and that I don’t have many, many questions, but I understand.”

“Arthur –”

Arthur stepped closer, gazed right into Merlin’s eyes, and his blue eyes were wide, solemn. “I want you to know that I will never let any harm come to you, as you’ve never let harm come to me. I will protect you from everyone and everything. I promise you.”

“Arthur.” Merlin was horrified at the catch in his voice. He wasn’t going to cry. Even though he was overwhelmed with relief, he wasn’t going to cry. He wasn’t. “Thank you.”

Arthur nodded once, briefly, and stepped back. “Now come on. We have evil sorcerers to fight.”

* * *

“Cut!”

Merlin jumped, jolted out of the stream of recitation, and then Jeremy was hurrying toward them.

“That was absolutely brilliant,” he said, and his eyes were bright with excitement. Merlin could only squeak when Jeremy pulled first him, then Arthur into exuberant hugs.

Jeremy pulled back and said, “That was your best performance yet. Boys, that was Oscar-worthy. I’m calling Johnny and the Julians.”

Merlin felt oddly like a betrayer, as if he and Arthur had robbed Colin and Bradley of praise they deserved. Katie and the others swarmed them with hugs.

“That really was brilliant, in more ways than one,” Angel said, and she pressed a kiss to Merlin’s cheek, which made him blush furiously.

Richard shook his hand. “Well done, young man. You really are a talented actor. I’m so honored to have seen you come this far in your skill and career.”

Merlin could only nod and smile, and Arthur was doing the same. On the other edge of the clearing, Merlin spotted the strange man who’d waved at Arthur watching the gathering with something like longing. He was bouncing anxiously on his toes and had his hands jammed into his pockets as if he wanted to reach out and was forcibly restraining himself. He stared at Arthur the entire time.

“Jeremy’s overcome with awe at your mad acting skills and will be distracted while he plots new things for this scene based on your amazing performance,” Katie said. “Into the cave. Quickly.”

Angel distracted Richard by asking him to fetch more pastries, and then they were in the cave. Katie and Tony opened all the backpacks and handed Arthur and Merlin the ritual components, and then they headed deeper into the cave. It looked the same as the cave from their world, only there were metal rails along the sides and lights overhead and loads and loads of people fiddling with equipment.

“Can we do this with everyone here?” Arthur asked.

“What’s going on?” a crewman asked.

Tony said, utterly smooth and calm, “Jeremy’s called a filming break while he re-tools a scene, so we’re down here to rehearse another one in the meantime.”

The crewman shrugged. “Right. Carry on.”

Katie found a decent-sized space, and she and Angel set about moving the thick black cords out of the way.

“Are you ready?” Arthur asked.

“Yes,” Merlin said. “Are you?”

“I’m ready to go home.”

“Are you ready to help cast your first spell?”

Arthur paused, swallowed hard. Then he looked up and met Merlin’s gaze. “Yes. I am.”

Merlin understood the concept of the spell well enough. He had to create a miniature world, one he could affect with his magic, and its effects would be magnified on the world at large, so he set out the borders of his realm with the seven roses laid in a circle, outside of which was sprinkled a ring of salt that Tony laid down with aplomb. The purple flower was earth, the little green candle was fire, the feather was air, and the seashell with sea stones in it was water. The white candles were for vision and light, and the red candles – which smelt of cinnamon – were for smell. A little silver bell was for sound, and some fake berries were for taste. A length of velvet ribbon represented touch. Merlin arranged the four elements as the four corners of a square, and the five senses inside the square in the shape of a pentagon, and then he stood back, studied his work. He had felt magic thrum as each piece was laid in place, growing stronger and stronger as he built the casting circle, and when the last piece was laid down he felt something click into place.

He knew this would work. It had to.

“I feel like I should take a picture,” Angel said.

Katie took one using her mobile. “Now what?” she asked.

“Now they finish the spell,” Tony said quietly.

“What do I need to do to help?” Arthur asked. He followed Merlin into the circle, and they stood almost nose-to-nose inside the pentagon.

“I need you,” Merlin said, “to think of home. Think as hard as you can. Remember the way it looks, sounds, smells. Remember the stones of the courtyard under Hengroen’s hooves, the bright colors of Morgana’s gowns and the weight of your crown. Concentrate. And no matter what you hear, don’t step outside of the circle.”

Arthur nodded. “All right,” he said, and lower, “I trust you.” Then he closed his eyes.

Merlin glanced over his shoulder at the others. “Thank you,” he said. “For everything. We’ll remember you.”

“Be safe,” Katie said, and Tony added, “Be brave.”

Angel stepped toward the edge of the circle and leaned in, whispered so only Merlin could hear, “When Gwen leaves him, you must be there for him, all right? He’ll need you.”

Merlin’s eyes went wide. “What? When –?”

Arthur opened one eye and glared at him. “Merlin, I can’t cast magic on my own.”

Angel hugged Merlin tightly, then stepped back. “I’m sorry. Good luck!”

Merlin nodded, still rattled and confused, but he pushed it aside, because he had to cast powerful magic. He turned back to Arthur. “Sorry. Let’s do this.”

Arthur closed his eye and resumed concentrating.

Merlin closed his eyes and began to recite the words from the Old Religion. _By the power of air and fire, take us home. By the power of earth and water, take us home_.

He felt something in his blood hum, as if he were a musical instrument and the hand of the universe had reached out and plucked one of his strings.

Wild colors exploded behind his eyelids, and suddenly Merlin could see the world as it really was, a living weaving of light and energy, of life and time and the spirits of all who had been and would be.

Merlin asked the universe, _Show us the path to take us home_ , and the universe answered by showing him a door. He took a step toward it, and another, and then a shoulder bumped his, and Arthur was walking alongside him, and together they walked through the open doorway.

Behind the shining tapestry of the universe, Merlin sensed an explosion of light and heat, and then he heard screams, and when he opened his eyes, all was dark.

Arthur said, “Did it work?”

At the same time, someone else said the same thing.


	13. Chapter 13

They were in total darkness. Bradley went to turn Arthur’s ring to create some fire and remembered he no longer had it. Panic blossomed in his chest. In his best Prince Arthur voice, he said, “Who goes there?”

To which his own voice replied, “That’s my line.”

A bluish glow materialized, and Colin appeared with a glowing ball of light hovering over his palm. In the outer edges of the glow, Bradley saw...himself. And then he realized – he was seeing the real Arthur and Merlin.

“Can you make the light bigger?” Bradley asked.

“Bloody hell,” Colin said.

Merlin blinked, confused at the turn of phrase, but his eyes flashed gold – actually flashed gold – and then the ball of light ballooned till it was the size of a beach ball, rose up to hover above them. Bradley traced its arc, awed, because seeing such powerful magic was rare, and he saw that they were standing in a cave just like the one they’d started in, only the tunnels leading backward and forward were...gone.

“What happened?” Colin asked.

“I think,” Bradley said, “we’re in some sort of in-between place.”

Merlin tilted his head to the side quizzically, studying them, and then he smiled. “You really do look just like us. I mean, I knew you did, because everyone thought we were you, but it’s sort of amazing to see.”

Colin spun around. “There’s no way out. How do we get out?”

Bradley put a hand on his arm. “It’s all right. I think it’s part of the magic.” He turned to Merlin. “Your magic did this, yes?”

“Yes,” Merlin said. “I made a wish.”

Wish magic generally only happened in films and books, and it was usually wielded by someone with no magic at all. It was intensely powerful magic, though, and knowing that Merlin had made two realities collide on the whim of his own willpower was awe-inspiring and a little frightening.

“What did you wish for?” Bradley asked.

“A safe place to tell Arthur the truth.”

Bradley glanced at Arthur, who was staring at him with confusion and the faintest hint of fear.

“Did you get your wish?” Bradley asked.

Merlin nodded. “He knows now.”

“Did he secretly know before?” Colin asked.

Merlin shook his head.

Colin winced. “Well, you’re alive, so I’m guessing he came around. Eventually.” Then he narrowed a look at Arthur. “You’re not taking him home to be executed, are you? Because if you are –”

“You sound a bit like Morgana,” Merlin said to Colin. “Are you related? Your surname is Morgan.”

Colin blinked, surprised. “Er...I don’t know, actually. Katie and I are both from Ireland, if that’s what you mean.”

Bradley took a step closer to Arthur. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Arthur said abruptly, and he took a step back.

Merlin moved closer to Arthur, clearly protective. “He’s just a bit overwhelmed by the magic is all.”

“I can speak for myself,” Arthur said, but it was without any of his usual sting. “But...I am overwhelmed. This is so strange. You look just like me.”

“Not exactly like,” Colin said. “You’re wearing different armor. If we don’t want people to suspect anything when we make the switch –”

“Katie, Angel, and Tony know,” Merlin said.

Bradley blinked. “What?”

“They know that we aren’t you.” Merlin smiled. “They helped us get home.”

That was a surprise. Bradley took a deep breath. “Do any of them have...magic?” He glanced at Colin, who shook his head and shrugged helplessly. If any of them were mages, Colin hadn’t known either.

Merlin shook his head. “No. Angel told me that magic no longer exists in your world, that it’s been overridden by science. But Tony helped us find a spell from the, er, spell nerd, and we cast a magic circle, and now we’re on our way home.”

“Or we’re trapped,” Arthur said. He looked Bradley up and down, and Bradley was faintly offended to see suspicion in his eyes. “How did you two get here?”

“My magic must have pulled them here so there wouldn’t be two sets of us in one world,” Merlin said. “All of the Old Religion is about balance, a life for a life.”

“Actually, we cast a circle of our own,” Colin said. He grinned and added, “Well, Bradley cast it. He has magic.”

Bradley had the distinct satisfaction of seeing Arthur take a step back, eyebrows raised.

“You have magic?”

“I was born with it,” Bradley said. He held out a hand. “May I see your ring?”

Arthur shucked off his gloves and Bradley saw that Arthur was wearing not his mother’s ring but Bradley’s own ring on his right thumb.

“It’s not mine – it’s yours,” Arthur said. “Angel made me wear it. She said fans would notice if I didn’t. Where’s my mother’s ring?”

“Back in your world, in the cave,” Bradley said. Anticipation buzzed through his veins when Arthur slid the ring off his thumb, handed it over. Bradley peeled off his gloves and slid the ring home, and he felt his magic settle into its familiar patterns. He knew he was almost home, because the Tapestry was weaker here, had less magic. Then he turned the ring with his index finger, a subtle gesture that most people assumed was a nervous tic, and a tiny flame appeared on his palm. He held it up. “See? Magic.”

Merlin’s eyes were round. “But Angel said no one had magic. How do you...?”

Colin grinned slyly, lifted a finger to his lips and whispered, “Shh. Keep the magic a secret.”

Bradley burst out laughing, and the flame vanished at his lapse in concentration. “I can’t believe you actually said that.”

Colin shrugged, but he was still grinning. “It was the perfect moment for it. I couldn’t resist.”

“So your friends don’t know you have magic?” Arthur asked. “Apart from...Colin?”

“I didn’t know about it before,” Colin said, “but he told me while we were in Camelot. It was the only way we could get home.”

Merlin studied Colin, then Bradley for a long moment. “Maybe our magic combined,” he said finally. “For both us. So we could each tell the truths we needed to, so we both could have our own Big Reveal.”

“Maybe,” Bradley said. “If it did –” He held out a hand – “then I must say, Merlin, that I am honored.”

Merlin clasped his hand cautiously. “Why?”

“Because when I was a child, my mother told me legends of the great and powerful Merlin, the greatest magician to have ever walked these lands. We know you were real, and we know you existed, and we know you have power beyond our wildest imaginations, but to have met you, to have done magic with you – I would never have thought it possible,” Bradley said.

Colin nudged his shoulder. “I thought you said with magic, anything was possible.”

Bradley glanced at him. “Only if you believe.”

Merlin’s eyes were wide once again. “They have legends about me? I mean, I’ve heard vague things about the prophecies of Emrys, but...when you say ‘we’, who do you mean?”

“I mean people like me and my mum and sister, who were born with magic and try to use it in a world where no one believes and everyone thinks magic is dead,” Bradley said. The full realization of who he was talking to was just starting to hit him, and goodness gracious, he was talking to Merlin. Merlin, who he knew was a frightened young man right now, trying to learn his way in the world, the same as Bradley and so many other young mages before him.

“Do they have legends about me?” Arthur asked.

“They do. Grand legends,” Colin said. “I’ve read almost all of them. Most of them got the story wrong, though.”

“How do the stories go?” Arthur took a step closer to Colin.

Colin hummed thoughtfully. “Well, where to begin? First of all, you weren’t raised a prince – you were raised an orphan, a ward of a knight named Sir Ector. And –”

The ground beneath them shook. Colin cried out, and Bradley reached out to steady him.

“What’s happening?” Arthur demanded.

“This pocket dimension is probably destabilizing,” Bradley said. “We have to hurry and go our respective ways. Come on, Colin.”

“But there are no doors,” Colin said.

“We’ll have to push on through, concentrate on home a little harder. But first I have to switch armor with Arthur so his knights don’t suspect and so the rest of the crew doesn’t suspect, even if Katie and Angel and Tony know.” Bradley fumbled with the clasp on his pauldron, and Colin moved to help him. Opposite them, Merlin and Arthur were fumbling to get Arthur out of his armor. Uncannily, Merlin and Colin were dressed completely alike from tip to toe.

“Back in our world, who knows about you?” Arthur asked. Merlin tugged off his gorge plate.

“Just Gaius,” Colin said. “He helped us find the spell we needed.”

“What happened while we were gone?” Arthur asked.

“Er...” Colin glanced up at Bradley. “You get to tell him.”

Bradley sighed. “Thanks. Okay, so some of the Blood Guard came to attempt to retrieve the shield, and we defended the castle –”

“They got as far as the castle?” Arthur cried.

“I’m an actor, not a soldier,” Bradley snapped, and outrage flared in Arthur’s eyes, but Merlin yanking on his pauldron distracted him. “Anyway, we defended the castle, and we even captured some of them, but your father went charging into battle alone like an idiot and almost got himself killed and I had to use magic to save him.”

Colin winced at the word _idiot_ , and Arthur tried to lunge at Bradley, but Merlin said, “Just listen!”

“Your father suspected Merlin, so I lied and told him I’m the one with magic.”

Arthur’s shout filled the entire cave. “What?”

The ground rumbled again.

“It was easy – I told him I was born of magic, and Morgana has magic, and so it stands to reason that we both inherited magic from him. And he believed me. And then he, er, fainted,” Bradley said.

“Morgana has magic?” Arthur asked. He looked shell-shocked and angry.

“Er, did you not know that bit?” Merlin asked.

“No!”

“Carrying on,” Colin said quickly, “all of your knights of the Round Table except Leon know that Merlin has magic, even though Gwaine and Lancelot knew already. Elyan was fine about it, but Percival might still be a bit weird about it. So there is a rumor going around that Arthur has magic, but basically it’s Arthur just covering for Merlin. So...Arthur does the dramatics, Merlin does the magic, Arthur gets the credit, and it’s business as usual in Camelot.”

As it turned out, beneath the hauberks Arthur and Bradley were dressed alike, so they only had to switch their plate armor. Bradley felt a bit like an oversized doll while Colin and Merlin fussed over the proper exchange of armor pieces.

“Also,” Bradley said, catching Arthur’s eye, “Lancelot knows that you know he’s in love with Gwen, and he also knows that you are not in love with Merlin –”

“Why would I be in love with Merlin?” Arthur spluttered.

Bradley rolled his eyes. “It was just something I had to clarify, because everyone was suspicious about how protective Arthur was being of Merlin, all right?”

“I would never let harm come to Merlin,” Arthur said, and Merlin looked absurdly pleased at the notion.

“Yes, well, given how often you beat him round the practice field, you can see why people might not believe that,” Colin said, and Arthur actually paused, looked surprised at the notion.

Merlin cast Colin a grateful smile.

“Lancelot attempted to hug you because he thinks you were emotionally crippled as a child because no one hugged you ever,” Bradley continued, “and Gwen thinks you like to read poetry.”

Indignation crossed Arthur’s face. “I am not emotionally crippled.”

“Yes you are,” Merlin said, and cut off any attempt at retort by yanking on the strap for Arthur’s gorge plate.

“Anyway, some of the Blood Guard escaped, and you and the knights – except Leon, who’s overseeing things back in Camelot – tracked them back to the cave where the shield was being held, and you have four of them for prisoners,” Colin said. He finished buckling on Bradley’s second gauntlet, and Bradley realized that the armor Arthur had been wearing was much heavier than normal. And then he realized – Arthur’s armor back in Camelot was just plastic stunt stuff.

The ground rumbled beneath them, and debris clattered down from the ceiling.

“Anything else?” Arthur asked. He straightened up, and shook his limbs out, settling into his armor. The blue glow from overhead turned him pale, like a godling spun from silver and gold, and Bradley realized he was seeing the king of legend for the first time.

“We taught your knights a campfire song,” Colin said. “Expect them to sing it once in a while.”

“A campfire song?” Arthur echoed, confused.

“We have to push on,” Bradley said. He offered a hand to Arthur. “Thank you for looking after our friends.”

“They needed no protection,” Arthur said, tone solemn. “They were kind and generous to us.” He clasped Bradley’s hand cautiously.

Before he could react, Bradley tugged him into a masculine one-armed hug, and Bradley whispered in Arthur’s ear, “Protect him. He’s part of your destiny.”

Arthur could only nod against his shoulder, stunned, and then Bradley pulled back.

Merlin and Colin hugged with much more enthusiasm, and what they whispered to each other Bradley would never know. Then Bradley reached out and clasped Merlin’s hand, and he said, “You’re the most powerful wizard this land will ever know. Trust in your instinct and your own imagination. Sometimes it’s about your will, not the words you’ve memorized, understand?”

Merlin nodded. “Thank you. Good luck to you. Enjoy your world – it’s wonderful.”

“That it is,” Bradley said, and he saw Colin speaking earnestly to Arthur.

The ground shook again, and this time there were cracks in the walls, and through them Bradley could see the strands of the tapestry whipping and lashing.

“We have to go, now!” Bradley tugged Colin to him and wrapped an arm around him, reached for his ring.

“Be safe,” Merlin called after them, and Arthur added, “Thank you for defending Camelot!”

His gaze locked with Bradley’s, and Bradley saw shadows in his eyes. He nodded, and then he closed his eyes and wished, and then...

He was home.

* * *

Colin opened his eyes. The world was pitch black. He could feel Bradley’s arm wrapped around him tightly, could hear Bradley breathing rapidly.

“Did it work this time?” Bradley asked quietly.

“Colin! Bradley! You’re all right,” Katie cried, and she was somewhere to his left.

“Not another bloody power failure,” Gary said, and relief sparked in Colin’s chest. They were home.

“We’re fine,” Bradley said, and his grip on Colin’s shoulder’s eased slightly.

“Thank heavens,” Tony said. “You’re both here.”

Mark cursed the air blue, then said, “Nobody move. We’ll radio for light.”

“We have candles here,” Angel said. “Does anyone have matches?”

Colin turned his head and leaned in close until he felt Bradley’s nose brush his ear. “Are you going to tell them?” he whispered.

“No,” Bradley whispered back. “Not yet. Just you.”

“Okay,” Colin said, and he smiled in the darkness. He was home.

“I thought we bought matches at Asda last night,” Tony said. “Check the backpacks.”

There was some rustling around, and then Katie said, “Found them.”

Colin listened and there was some more rustling and fumbling, some cursing, and then several candles flared on. To Colin’s vast surprise, he and Bradley were kneeling in the ruins of a casting circle eerily similar to the one they had left, although this one was bit more ornate and looked like someone had attempted a Wiccan home decorating disaster.

“Those came in handy,” Shaun said, “but don’t you think that’ll annoy the art department?”

“Shut it,” Gary said. “It beats being in utter darkness.”

David glanced down at the group huddled at the casting circle, and he looked amused. “Looks more Buffy than Merlin, I think. Well, I suppose it’s a good thing Jeremy had you all working on a scene above ground.”

Bradley glanced at Colin, who shrugged helplessly, then at Tony. “What scene? Arthur and Merlin were actually caught on camera?”

“The Big Reveal,” Tony said. “They got it in one take. It was...fantastic.”

Bradley rolled his eyes. “They neglected to mention that part.”

Angel’s eyes went wide. “They? Did you see them? Did they get home all right?”

“We did see them. Even got to talk to them,” Colin said. “I’m sure if we made it, they did.”

Mark clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Oh no, Colin. Who sounds like an Irishman again? Jeremy will be very displeased.”

“I don’t know,” Katie said. “He was pretty happy with their performance.”

Bradley was speaking urgently to Tony. “We’ll have to see it before we can do any of the other detail takes.”

“If you ask, I’m sure Jeremy will let you while he tries to sort this mess out,” Tony said.

Relief curled in Colin’s chest. Good. Hopefully no one else would have to know about what happened. Walkie-talkies crackled to life, and soon enough an AD was meandering through the cave with a torch to escort the principal actors back into the sunlight. As they walked, Angel and Katie kept casting Colin and Bradley bright smiles. Colin smiled back, glad to be home. Once or twice Bradley smiled too, but Colin saw shadows descend in his eyes, and he wondered if Bradley had someone in his cabal he could talk to about all the things he’d seen and done.

Up above ground, Jeremy was standing near the entrance to the cave and having a very heated conversation with the chief electrician, and he barely glanced up to acknowledge the actors. The clearing looked just the same as when Colin had last seen it, cluttered with equipment and crew and all the joyful noise of work. Colin had never been so glad to see all of the filming equipment before. Usually he was sure the wires on every set were conspiring against him, dead set on tripping him up, but wires meant electricity and modern technology. Wires meant home.

Bradley finally eased off of his grip on Colin’s shoulders and blinked in the sunlight, and Colin took a moment to study him. It was true – he looked exactly like Arthur Pendragon, golden and noble and strong, and now he had Arthur’s shadows in his eyes. Colin put a hand on Bradley’s shoulder. Surely they would have some time to talk while Jeremy was distracted.

“Hey Bradley,” Colin began, but then Angel and Katie were fussing over him, patting him down and feeling his forehead and checking him over, and Richard was congratulating Bradley on a job well done, and it looked like they wouldn’t be left alone for a chat after all.

“Thank you, Richard,” Bradley said, his smile strained, and then a man said,

“Bradley.”

Colin craned his neck over Angel and Katie to see who it was, and there, standing on the edge of their little family, was a stranger. He had his hands jammed into his pockets and his mouth twisted into a thin line. Something about his expression was oddly familiar.

Bradley stepped back from Richard and said, “Dad.”

Angel and Katie immediately went still and quiet, because it was common knowledge that Bradley rarely spoke of his father except for the occasional strained visit to America to see childhood friends. Colin felt his hands curl into fists. So this was the man who’d hurt Bradley all those years ago, made him ashamed of who he was. Bradley always said that he took after his mum in looks, and it was true, he’d inherited most of her fine features, but now Colin could see it, in this older man’s mannerisms, where half of Bradley had come from.

“When I waved at you earlier,” Bradley’s father said, “you looked as if you didn’t even know me.”

“I’m sorry,” Bradley said. “I wasn’t quite myself. It was a very important scene.”

“I know,” his father said, and he sounded like Bradley did when Bradley was talking in his half-baked American accent. “I saw. I’ve been watching the show and...Bradley, you were amazing.”

“Thanks,” Bradley said cautiously.

There was an awkward silence while Bradley and his father looked at each other and everyone was looking at them look at each other, and Colin was ready to distract, drag Bradley away, and then Bradley’s father said, “Can I have a moment with you? Alone?”

Bradley nodded. “Of course.” He was almost Arthur-formal as he inclined his head politely at the others and said, “Excuse me,” and started to follow his father toward the edge of the equipment.

Colin caught his shoulder. “Will you be all right?”

Bradley met his gaze and smiled wryly. “I think I will be.”

“Whatever he says, you can talk to me,” Colin said.

“Thank you.” Bradley pulled away, and Colin watched him go.

Bradley came to stand opposite his father, and whether or not they realized it, they adopted mirroring posture, the lines of their bodies almost the same. Bradley’s father was speaking low and earnestly, and Bradley was nodding. Both of them were tense, guarded, and Colin desperately wanted to know what was being said, wanted to make sure Bradley was all right.

Katie tugged him around to face her. “What happened in Camelot? You have to tell us everything, every detail.”

“What do you mean?” Richard asked.

Tony put a hand on Richard’s shoulder. “I wanted to discuss our upcoming scene, the one where Uther’s on his deathbed.” Tony smiled winningly and slowly led Richard away from Angel and Katie’s attempted interrogation.

“What happened there?” Angel asked. “How did you get home?”

“Bradley did most of the work, actually,” Colin said. “I was useless. I mean, I’m better than Merlin is with a sword, but Bradley had to command the palace guard and the knights and convince Gaius we weren’t Arthur and Merlin to get him to help us.”

“Really?” Katie sneaked a glance over to where Bradley and his father were speaking. “I’m surprised Bradley managed to keep his head on straight.”

Colin felt indignation rise in his chest. “Bradley’s a lot smarter than you give him credit for. He was very level-headed about the entire affair.”

Angel hugged him tightly. “I’m so glad both of you are home. Merlin and Arthur were darlings, but they weren’t you.”

“I’m glad I’m home too,” Merlin said. “If I don’t have to camp medieval-style in the forest ever again, it’ll be too soon.”

Katie cooed and patted him on the shoulder. “Your delicate frame wasn’t made for the manful hardship of medieval questing, was it?”

“No, it wasn’t,” Colin agreed.

Angel said softly, “Awwww.”

Colin huffed. “What? I don’t look like a baby deer, do I?”

“No. Look.” Angel pointed.

Colin turned.

It was Bradley and his father embracing, clutching each other almost desperately, as if each was trying to reassure himself the other was real. Colin knew that they probably hadn’t hugged in a very long time.

“I wonder what that’s all about,” Katie said, and she must have sensed the heavy emotion in the gesture as well.

Colin shrugged. “I suppose, if Bradley wants to tell us, he will.” But he was glad to see Bradley reconciling with his father.

“Make-up’s going to have a fit with you,” Angel said, distracting them from the emotional reunion by running a hand over Colin’s leaf-tangled hair.

“I’ll bet,” Colin said. He wasn’t wearing any make-up at all, and he probably had mud and other terrible substances under his clothes, and he really, really wanted a nice hot shower.

“You smell like woodsmoke,” Katie added, nudging him lightly.

“I think time ran differently there,” Colin said. “It was the middle of the night when we left. I was sitting by the campfire to keep warm. We spent two nights there.”

“Well, they spent two nights here as well, so it wasn’t too different,” Angel said.

“I should get a look at what Arthur and Merlin shot,” Colin said. “Send Bradley over when he’s done.” He turned and headed for the camera. Usually he didn’t ask for playback on a scene unless he was having trouble understanding the director’s comments, but Jeremy was still distracted with the electrician, and the camera operator looked bored.

Before Colin made it to the camera, however, Nancy and Julia from make-up pounced on him.

“Colin!” Nancy cried. “What happened to you?”

“Fell over in the darkness when the lights went out in the cave,” he said easily, and as an actor, it was so easy to be a liar. It was easy to be a liar when he had to cover up something that altered reality, like the fact that he’d been in another world as a side-effect of another man’s magic. After all these years of playing Merlin, he knew it was easy to be a liar to protect himself and those he loved – or to protect himself from those he loved. He glanced over at Bradley where he was still talking to his father and knew that he had truly forgiven Bradley for never telling him about his magic.

“Poor lamb,” Julia said. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Colin closed his eyes obediently so she could paint his face, and Nancy set about combing his hair.

“You say you fell over? It looks as though you’ve been running wild through a forest,” she said.

Colin smiled under Julia’s gentle powder brush. “Maybe I have been.”

Nancy laughed. “You’re funny.”

“I try.”

Sometimes, magically, he didn’t have to.

Jeremy came trotting back over to them, and he looked flustered but not angry.

“Since all the tools are already here, they should be able to get the caves repaired by sundown, so if you’re willing to pull a long one, after the Big Reveal we can try for the shield scene again,” he said. “Until then, it’s back to business as usual.”

Business as usual. Colin could get used to that.

* * *

Arthur opened his eyes, and he and Merlin were standing in a torchlit cave inside a circle of flowers, candles, feathers, and berries, a cruder version of the casting circle Tony had showed them how to make, but Arthur knew they were home.

Something silver gleamed in the darkness, and Arthur knelt.

There, in the middle of the circle, was his mother’s ring, just as Bradley had promised.

Arthur picked it up and replaced it reverently, and then he straightened up. He looked at Merlin, who was studying the magic circle with great interest.

“Thank you,” Arthur said.

Merlin looked up, startled, as if surprised at the words, and Arthur knew he didn’t say them enough, not to a man to whom he owed his life a dozen times over.

“For what?”

“For bringing us home,” Arthur said.

“Thank you for trusting me,” Merlin replied, and Arthur couldn’t help but smile.

A moment later, he heard footsteps thundering down the tunnel, heard the familiar jangle of armor, and he drew his sword, stepped in front of Merlin. Merlin extended one hand, thrust it under Arthur’s arm, ready to cast, and Arthur knew, that day in the marketplace, Merlin really could have taken him apart with less than one blow.

“Sire!” Lancelot came charging into the cave, sword drawn, Gwaine on his heels. “We heard a noise,” Lancelot said. He slowed to a halt when he saw that it was just Arthur and Merlin alone.

Gwaine drew up short behind Lancelot. “What happened?”

“Just a bit of magic gone awry,” Merlin said. “It was my fault. I wanted to experiment, and I couldn’t do it in Camelot. Arthur agreed to keep watch is all.”

Arthur nodded quickly, realizing the logic behind Merlin’s words, but inside, he was reeling. He’d never thought Merlin was capable of lying, or at least not lying that well. Then Arthur reasoned to himself that, as he had learned to use a sword as a boy so he could defend himself and his kingdom, so Merlin had learned to lie to keep himself alive.

“Oh,” Gwaine said faintly, and he was eyeing Arthur in a suspicious and frankly disrespectful – Gwaine-typical – manner. “You could have warned us is all.”

“I didn’t think it would be so loud,” Merlin said, which was probably the truth. “Sorry. Is everyone all right?”

“Elyan and Percival are guarding the prisoners, who were also awakened by the sound,” Lancelot said.

“Go help keep an eye on the prisoners,” Arthur said. “We’ll be up soon.”

Lancelot inclined his head deferentially and turned away, started back up the tunnel. Like Leon, he would never fully break himself of the protocols associated with rank. Gwaine had taught himself disrespect for rank, and he displayed it at every turn. Elyan was Gwen’s brother and sometimes forgot rank. Percival, Arthur thought as Gwaine saluted saucily and sauntered after Lancelot, was the perfect blend of respectful and familiar. Maybe it was because he was so quiet.

“That was close,” Merlin said once both knights were out of earshot. “Not as close as some, I suppose, but close all the same.”

“You realize you’re in exponentially more danger now that all those men know your secret,” Arthur said quietly. “I know none of them would betray you, but if one of them slips –”

“Uther thinks the one with the magic is you,” Merlin said. His blue eyes were wide and solemn. “You didn’t see what he was like when you were bitten by the questing beast. He’d never hurt you. You’re his son –”

“He thinks I’m an abomination born of magic,” Arthur said quietly. He felt something in his chest tighten. What had Bradley done? He’d saved Colin, yes but at what cost for Arthur and Camelot?

“You’re his son,” Merlin said fiercely, “and above all else, he loves you. He wants what’s best for you. Sometimes he’s wrong about what’s best for you, but he could never hurt you. Even when he was under the troll’s spell, he cried for you.”

Arthur sighed. “You don’t know my father like I do –”

“I know he’s your father,” Merlin said. “I know what a father will do for a son.”

Arthur knew Merlin must have been thinking of Balinor. He said, “You’re right.”

Merlin smiled faintly, nodded. “See? I’m not a complete idiot.”

Arthur opened his mouth for a smart retort about how Merlin was such an idiot he couldn’t even manage to be a complete one, but he changed his mind. “You know, your eyes glow whenever you cast a spell. Why would anyone believe the one with the magic is me?”

Merlin shrugged. “People see what they want to see.”

Arthur knew that was true. How many innocent men, women, and children had died because his father wanted to see magic in them?

“Are you ready?” Merlin asked.

“Ready for what?” Arthur started toward the tunnel.

“To be Prince Arthur again,” Merlin said quietly.

“I am. Until I know that Camelot is safe – that my father, and Gwen, and Leon are all safe – I cannot rest. I tried playing football and Frisbee, watching films and everything else, but I belong to Camelot, and I cannot leave it, not like you can,” Arthur said.

“I can’t leave it any more than you can,” Merlin said, and his brow furrowed. “Don’t you understand anything I’ve told you? I know you’re going to become the greatest king this land has ever known, but you’re not doing it without me.”

“Because I can’t do it without you.” Arthur sighed.

“You could,” Merlin said, “but it wouldn’t be very fair if I didn’t get to see it.” He smiled then, one of his bright, happy smiles, and Arthur was overcome by the irrational urge to hug Merlin. So he did.

Merlin hugged him back instantly, though he winced and said, “I don’t know how Gwen does this, because your armor is poky,” and Arthur couldn’t help but laugh.

Then he pulled back and clapped Merlin on the shoulder. “Come. Let’s see what has happened to our kingdom since we’ve been gone.”

Merlin nodded, and together they headed for the surface. As they approached, they heard singing.

“ _...Make it loud and make it clear!  
Whoa..._”

“Hang on, Lancelot, you’re totally out of tune,” Gwaine said.

“I am not!” Lancelot said, affronted.

Arthur slowed as he approached the fire. All of his knights were awake and sitting in a row beside the fire, warming their hands. The prisoners, awake and bound in a row, were staring at the knights as if they’d gone mad.

Percival said, “It goes a bit more like this,” and then he sang with a surprisingly pleasant baritone.

“ _We’re not gonna sit in silence,  
We’re not gonna live in fear!  
Whoa...whoa! _”

And he performed the silly hand gestures Bradley and Colin had performed in the video Angel had showed them on the white device.

“Is this what they meant by a campfire song?” Merlin asked faintly.

“Apparently,” Arthur said.

“Lancelot, you sound terrible and you know it,” Elyan said, and he sang the the words again. When he sang, his voice was higher and sweeter than Percival’s but equally pleasant. “Tell him, Arthur. He’s doing it wrong.”

Arthur remembered what the song sounded like, but he wasn’t much of a singer, and chances were if he tried to sing the song he’d be out of tune himself. Instead of answering Elyan’s request, he asked a question of his own.

“Why are all of you awake?”

“The noise,” Elyan said. “Couldn’t sleep. Thought we might try to get something out of these jokers.” He gestured to the prisoners with his sword.

“The prison guards can try back in Camelot,” Arthur said. “The last few days have been stressful, and we need all the rest we can get.”

“If that’s the case, then why do you keep making Merlin take watch shifts with you?” Gwaine asked.

“Plausible deniability in case of magical attack,” Arthur said simply.

It took the knights a few moments to work that out, as none of them but Leon would have been familiar with the parlance of court, but then they all nodded.

“You should sleep now in any case,” Percival said. “Lancelot and I can take it from here.”

Arthur inclined his head politely. “Thank you, Sir Percival.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Come on, Merlin. You can finally sleep.”

“Thank you, Sire,” Merlin said, the honorific heavy with sarcasm, but he was quick to find his bedroll.

Arthur checked the bindings on the prisoners before he lay down, and then he couldn’t fall asleep. Instead, he gazed up at the stars, and he wondered if – hoped – Bradley and Colin made it home safely. Eventually, he closed his eyes and surrendered to the familiar embrace of sleep and knew that tomorrow, he would be back in Camelot.


	14. Epilogue

“Merlin, there’s something wrong with my armor.” Arthur picked it up and hefted it, but it was unnaturally light, and when he rapped his knuckles against it, it didn’t ring like metal. In fact, it rattled.

Merlin, who was folding some of Arthur’s tunics beside the wardrobe, paused and looked up. “What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s light. And it’s not...metal.” Arthur peered at the engravings, and it certainly looked like his armor, but it wasn’t. And then he remembered – he’d switched armor with Bradley at the in-between place. Bradley had his armor, which meant he had Bradley’s fake armor.

Merlin set down Arthur’s tunic and crossed the room, picked up the armor and shook it experimentally. Then his eyes lit up. “It’s plastic!”

“What?” Arthur asked, distracted by fussing with his sword belt.

“Plastic, the stuff nearly everything was made of in Bradley’s world,” Merlin said, and his eyes were lit up with excitement. “I tried to explain it to Gaius, but he wouldn’t believe me. Now I have proof. I have to go show it to him.”

“Proof for one of Gaius’s scientific inquiries is all fine and good, but whatever that plastic is, it won’t hold up in battle. I need new armor,” Arthur said.

Merlin, who was already half out the door, paused and thought quickly. “Ask Elyan. He’s a blacksmith.”

“He’s a knight.”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “It’s not like he’s forgotten how to be a blacksmith all of a sudden. Ask him to make you some nicer armor. Kingly armor instead of just princely armor. He can do it. After all, he’s Tom’s son, and Tom made you that fantastic sword that you, er, never got to use.”

Arthur’s brow furrowed. “Sword? What sword? What are you talking about?”

“I’m going to show this to Gaius,” Merlin said and bolted out the door.

Arthur took two steps after him, then paused. It wouldn’t do good to be seen chasing his own servant down the castle corridor. Now that his father was recovered from the shock of ‘knowing’ that his own son was capable of magic, he was utterly determined to pretend that life in Camelot was carrying on, business as usual, as if no one in his household had magic, and he’d been a bit of a hard case on things like propriety (he’d nearly sent Gwaine to the stocks two days ago for speaking out of turn during the weekly council meeting). He’d stopped saying Morgana’s name altogether when he spoke of plans against Morgause, and sometimes Arthur thought he was a child again, the only royal youth in a large and empty household.

Arthur surveyed his room, and of course Merlin had bolted while half of his chores remained unfinished. That Arthur knew Merlin could finish his chores in a fraction of the time with just a flash of magic made the messy state of the room even more annoying. In fact, why had Merlin been scrubbing the floors by hand anyway? The first thing he’d done that morning after serving Arthur breakfast was shuck off his jacket, roll up his sleeves, and set to scrubbing.

Merlin’s little brown jacket was lying in a sad heap on the floor next to the bucket, and the edges of it were damp. Arthur sighed and picked it up (because despite popular opinion to the contrary, he was capable of picking things up when they were in his way). He dusted it off and then held it up for inspection, and he noticed that the thing was fraying at the cuffs and elbows. He’d have to commission a new one for Merlin, who seemed to forget that he was paid so he could buy things like food and new clothes. Arthur went to fold the jacket over the back of a chair like a civilized human being, and something fell out of one of the pockets. Arthur frowned and picked it up. It was that bone-white parchment that had abounded in Bradley’s world, folded around something stiff, like a very thin piece of wood. Maybe it was that plastic business again. Bradley turned the parchment over and saw, written in vivid, startling blue, _For Merlin and Arthur. Love, Katie, Angel, and Tony_.

Arthur unfolded the parchment carefully, and his heart lodged itself in his throat. It was a picture of his mother, the one Angel had showed him on her mobile, only it was larger and he could hold it in his hands, and –

“Hah! Gaius believes me now.” Merlin trotted into the room, face flush with exertion and excitement. He drew up short when he saw Arthur. “What’s wrong?”

Arthur held up the picture of his mother. “It was a gift from Katie, Angel, and Tony. It fell out of your pocket. I didn’t mean to pry –”

Merlin crossed the room in a few quick strides and peered at the photo. His hands were shaking. “Is there another?”

Arthur handed him the fold of white parchment. Inside was another picture, as frighteningly realistic as the first. It was Balinor.

“How did I not notice this?” Merlin asked. “It was in my pocket? But they never gave me anything.” He gazed at the picture of his father fervently. Then his eyes narrowed. “Right at the end, Angel hugged me. She must have put it in my pocket then, like a pickpocket in reverse.”

“What did she say to you, then?” Arthur asked.

Merlin hesitated, and then his blue eyes lit with defiance, and Arthur could see it now, the moment before Merlin told a spectacularly untrue and flawless lie.

“The truth, Merlin,” Arthur said quietly.

Merlin bit his lip. “Can I think about it?”

“About what?”

“The best way to tell you,” Merlin said. “Give me time, all right? But...I will tell you. Only...there’s a spell to replicate pictures. D’you have any spare parchment? I want to send a copy of this to my mother.”

Arthur considered Merlin for a long moment, considered the rare moment of honesty Merlin had granted him, and he knew it was only fair to grant Merlin some consideration in return. “All right. Think about it. I don’t have any spare parchment, but Geoffrey usually does.”

Merlin nodded and started for the door, and Arthur said, “I’ll come with you. I’d like a copy...for Father.”

“All right,” Merlin said, and together they started for the door.

Arthur tugged Merlin to a halt with one hand. “Before we go, will you finish cleaning my room?”

Merlin arched an eyebrow, almost an uncanny imitation of Gaius’s Eyebrow of Extreme Disapproval, but Arthur said, “Go on, make it fast so one of the other maids doesn’t do it out of guilt.”

“Fast?” Merlin echoed, puzzled, and Arthur gestured vaguely, hoping Merlin got the point. Thankfully, Merlin did. He lifted a hand, and his eyes flashed gold, and the tunics folded themselves into the wardrobe, the sheets twitched themselves neatly into place.

“There,” Merlin said.

Arthur laid a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you.”

Merlin grinned at him. “You’re welcome. Now come on! We can show these to Gaius. He’ll be amazed...”

* * *

Bradley had fled to his trailer mid-scene. He’d doubled over and made appropriate pre-vomiting noises such that everyone got out of his path right quickly, but Colin thought he’d seen a green tint starting to come over Bradley’s skin, a shade of green not typically found in even the sickest of humans.

After several concerned knocks on Bradley’s trailer door which were answered by very theatrical vomiting sounds, Jeremy called a break in filming. Colin begged a cup of tea off of craft services, steaming hot and made just the way Bradley liked it. Then he went to Bradley’s trailer and paused at the door, ready to knock, and he saw that it was slightly ajar, and he could hear Bradley’s voice inside.

“Yeah, I called my mum and told her it’s paradox, so she’ll be here soon,” he was saying. “She can conjure up a Glamour long enough to get me off set without raising any suspicion. Yeah. Put Ralph on.”

Colin felt like a git for eavesdropping, but he knew Bradley was talking to someone who knew about his magic, someone who wasn’t in his family. He must have been talking to his famous cabal-siblings.

As if on cue, Bradley said, “Hey, Ralph, how is my prettiest cabal sister ever?”

Ralph was a girl?

Bradley laughed, though his voice was slightly hoarse. “Yeah, I used much more magic than usual, so naturally, in the middle of work, I turn a spectacularly unnatural shade of green.” Then his tone turned sombre. “It was amazing there. Magic was everywhere, and people believed, and I was more powerful than I ever dreamed I could be. I did things I never thought –” His voice caught in his throat, and Colin felt his chest tighten, knew instinctively Bradley was thinking of the men he’d killed. “I need to talk to you sometime. In person. I think I might be able to wrangle a few days off, because this level of paradox is going to take a while to wear off, and if I start mysteriously developing animal features, well, Johnny and the Julians will have to let me go, won’t they?” Bradley laughed again. “It would be a terrible irony if I sprouted donkey ears, but seeing how my magic is predictable, it’d likely be those stupid bunny ears instead.”

Colin had to bite his lip to stifle a bark of laughter, because he could totally imagine a disgruntled Bradley, swaddled in blankets like a petulant child with a pair of giant floppy, fuzzy bunny ears sprouted from his head.

“So if we get some time off, I’d like to come round for a visit, and you all can laugh at my lovely lime-colored skin,” Bradley was saying. “We can catch up, and I can tell you all about how I met Merlin – yes, the actual Merlin, the only wielder of all nine spheres ever – and I can tell you how my meeting with my dad went...yeah, he came to visit me on set. He saw me shooting a scene that – well, I can’t tell you what scene, because that’d spoil season four, but he saw me – well, he thought it was me, but it was actually Arthur...yes, it is confusing, but the part that matters is that he’s come around and he wants to reconcile with me, Steph, and Mum.”

Colin smiled at that. Bradley had been shell-shocked and jubilant when he returned from his conversation with his father, who lingered the entire day to watch the filming.

Colin remembered the wistful look in Bradley’s father’s eyes when he shook Colin’s hand and said, “Colin, eh? You’re the man who plays a boy who must hide his magic lest he is hated and killed.”

Colin had said, a little tartly, “At least, thanks to legend, I have the reassurance that eventually Merlin will be loved and respected for what he can do.”

At that, Bradley had looked absurdly pleased, his father ashamed, and everyone else confused. Colin had told Merlin the prophecies were true, that Arthur would become a magnificent king, but he just needed a friend along the way. Colin had told Arthur that no matter what happened, Merlin would be there for him, but he had to be there for Merlin in more ways than punching him in the arm and throwing armor at him – he should ask about Freya and Balinor, about the Knights of Medhir and the time he was almost burned at the stake for Gwen. Merlin and Arthur had to defend each other, protect each other from the world, just as Bradley had protected Colin.

It was Colin’s time to protect Bradley in return.

By this point, Colin knew the eavesdropping had been going on long enough, so he knocked.

“I’m ill!” Bradley said.

“I know exactly how ill you are,” Colin said, and heard Bradley say,

“Hang on a moment,” to Ralph, and then louder, “Come in! Quick before someone sees.”

Colin nipped in as swiftly as he could and tugged the door firmly closed after him. He started to say, “I brought you some tea,” but didn’t manage the words because he burst out laughing. Bradley looked like himself, neat in Arthur’s armor, but his skin was a thorough shade of lime green, as if he’d been painted up to play Elphaba in _Wicked_.

Bradley arched an eyebrow, looking distinctly unamused, and said into the phone, “Anyway, Ralph, the point I was getting at was, when I come for a visit with you and the rest, I thought I’d bring a friend. D’you mind? No, he knows, I told him.”

Colin felt warmth unfurl in his chest. Bradley had remembered his promise to introduce Colin to his cabal.

“No, he’s not my boyfriend!...You and half the girls on the Internet,” Bradley grumbled, and he rolled his eyes, but then he smiled up at Colin. “No, he’s my best mate. Yeah, I think you’ll like him – he’s pretty special.”

Colin smiled and held out the cup of tea. Bradley flicked his wrist lazily, and Colin watched, awed, as the teaspoon began to stir round and round, as if of its own accord.

“Okay. Yeah, now I need Colin’s help to keep everyone else out of my trailer till mum gets here. Colin never panders to my pranks, so if he says I’m terribly ill, they’ll believe him – it’s because he can look like a baby deer combined with a wounded kitten on command. He’s a fabulous actor,” Bradley said. “Take care, Ralph. See you in a few days.” And he disconnected, set his iPhone aside.

Colin sat down opposite him, and Bradley accepted the cup of tea, sipped gratefully.

“Thanks,” Bradley said.

“You’re welcome,” Colin said, and then grinned. “You look very fetching in green.”

Bradley didn’t even bother to use his hands to throw a pillow at Colin, and both of them laughed.

Colin sat back, clasped his hands behind his head with all the smugness of Merlin at the end of another episode where he averted disaster with his typical blend of magical genius and comedic bumbling. “Hey, green is better than bunny ears, isn’t it?”

Bradley’s eyes went wide. “Colin, you little spy!”

Colin burst out laughing again, and this time a pillow chased him all over the trailer as Bradley spluttered in wordless indignation. Eventually, Colin collapsed on the sofa beside Bradley, and they both sighed.

“So...this is paradox.”

“So...this is how you support a friend in need.”

“Yeah.”

Bradley smiled. “Yeah.”

* * *

Tony was getting old. He could keep up fighting Bradley with a sword all day, and he could strut around in armor with the best of them, but the fact remained that he was getting old, and he didn’t like it one bit. Especially since he had to get up every two hours in the middle of the night to use the loo.

On the way back to his bed, he stumbled, tripped, and landed hard.

“Ow,” he grunted, annoyed, because he was tidy and hadn’t left out anything worth tripping on, which meant the youngsters had been in his room, and prank wars were afoot.

Only he was smarting so much not because he’d landed too hard so much as because he’d landed on a stone floor. Not the tile in the bathroom or the carpet in his hotel room, but honest to goodness stone, and it was bloody freezing.

Tony pushed himself up onto his knees, confused. “Hang on.” He peered through the shadows, searching for the bed, and then a golden glow blossomed out of the corner of his eye. He turned and saw a faintly familiar man – he looked like an extra – standing in a doorway that hadn’t been there before. The man was wearing medieval hose and a night shirt and was carrying an actual flaming torch.

“Sire,” the man said, “is everything all right?”

The word _sire_ rattled around in Tony’s head, and his heart sank.

“What did you call me?”

The man blinked, puzzled, and said, “Your Majesty, are you well?”

Tony’s initial thought was that this was a prank, all part of Bradley and Colin’s shenanigans, but then he remembered the last time someone played a prank like this, and he’d seen a boy with glowing golden eyes conjure a flame on his palm.

Tony glanced at his surroundings, taking in the flagstone floors, the tapestries on the walls, the heavy wooden table, and it wasn’t a set, because the stone was real, and it wasn’t Arthur’s room redecorated the way the art department liked to do to save money. A glance out the window, where golden lights gleamed, where there was no rush of city life, confirmed Tony’s growing suspicion. He was in Camelot. What now?

Then he thought quickly, and he said,

“Summon my son, his manservant Merlin, and the court physician.”

The man bowed and said, “Right away, Sire,” and ducked out of the doorway.

Tony rose to his feet gingerly and tip-toed across the stone floor, perched tentatively on the edge of the massive bed that dominated the room that was distinctly not his hotel room.

“Well,” he said to himself, “this is going to be an awfully big adventure.”


End file.
